Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. "How has he unfastened his padlock? Austin, it must be owing to your negligence. She had looked forward to an explanation. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. “I want to have no distractions. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. It was now evident that he had not been normal that first day. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river. To have spoken lightly on such a subject a few hours ago would have seemed incredible.
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