Annabel was in hiding all the time. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. I knew where I would go next: Florence. ‘Quick, Gérard. I have slept with it under my pillow. With a little sigh of happiness she accepted this new thing. “Maybe I should have stayed home. ‘C’est ridicule. ” A bureaucratic three hours later, the paperwork was finished. Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor. ‘Very well,’ he said, lowering his own weapon.
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