They used to marry us off at seventeen, rush us into things before we had time to protest. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable.
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