272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. As a sex you’re a little under-trained—in affairs. “Um, he took me to the Big Apple. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. ’ Her features broke apart in a laugh.
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