272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. Everything was blurred. I have suspected him of possessing a skeleton key to my apartments. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. He threw up his hand, reeled for a moment on his feet, and collapsed upon the floor. \"Yes, he's hot, drives a great car, parents are loaded, and, of course, as you say, good-looking.
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