He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. She detected that the young officer’s shoulders tensed whenever she moved in the back of his 94 car. ‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense.
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