272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. " "Order those who choose to obey you," rejoined the lady scornfully. Anybody in pain had only to call to him. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall.
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