272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. You are right. My whole life shall be devoted to you, beloved girl. “Were you thinking of private apartments, a boarding-house or an hotel?” she asked. The twins were a hard delivery, a C-Section. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. ” Brendon laughed softly. Jonathan nodded assent.
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