The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight.
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