” “You are wonderful!” she murmured. Inhuman as he is, he would not kill her. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness.
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