’ ‘But tell,’ demanded Melusine impatiently. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. She took some shirts, underwear, shoes, a duffel bag, and his wallet to make it look like he had gone a-traveling. The rest of his attire was nondescript. “You’ve got my view,” he said, after a pensive second. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance.
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