The Bach Cantata was played fairly well, Sebastian thought, for a lot of children. “That doesn’t touch the question I asked you,” she said. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. Her fingers opened and the weapon fell from her nerveless grasp.
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