And Gosse had been still there, so Martha said, and not in prison. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun.
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