She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. “You must play for us again sometime. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. " "He's coming!" cried Jack, stamping his foot, with vexation.
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