” John gestured. He walked her home. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. F. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. And Ritter’s, too, was very amusing and foreign and discreet; a little rambling room with a number of small tables, with red electric light shades and flowers.
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