272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. "You will make me the happiest of mankind," cried the woollen-draper, falling on his knees, and seizing her hand, which he devoured with kisses. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. She felt much better. On examining his pockets, he found about twenty guineas in gold, and some silver. ‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. He's young and sound.
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