Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. ” They heard a man’s voice outside. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it. Just an idea of mine.
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