Ruth could not be told now. I don’t suppose you could tell me even the derivation of suffrage if I asked you. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. "Yes, your son, Madam. " "No—no," laughed Jack. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. A day will come when you will thank me. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you.
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