’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. His face fell. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. After quarter of an hour, she followed. ’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. Only a few, but enough for me to understand that some act had driven you to this part of the world, where the hunted hide. org. ” “Mr. " "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet.
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