272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. Cars rushed by on the street, swerving into the middle of the two lane road to avoid the knee-deep puddles forming around sewer grates. \"I guess so. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Here was a thundering blow. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. I wouldn't have him see me in this state for the world. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. So overjoyed was the carpenter with the successful issue of his undertaking, that he scarcely paused a moment to recruit himself; but, securing the child, set out upon his return.
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