The air was thick with feelings. Rummage, my boy, do. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. ‘But I have told you.
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