‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. The only departure which he made from the fashion of the period, was in respect to the peruke—an article he could never be induced to wear. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. ‘Do not be foolish. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. The inn was a military haunt. But no more of that. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Give up your lonely hours of work here.
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