272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. “I am not sure,” Anna answered. It is good sometimes to walk with a man who can look God squarely in the face, as you can. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. "Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave can give up its dead. But it is all very different. So I made haste and recovered. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. ‘I broke in.
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