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Updated: August 7, 2026
The green flash of the second hour past midnight bathed the city in its split-second lurid glare. Elza had fallen asleep, beside us on the feathered hassock of our balcony corner. But Georg and I were fully alert waiting for this unknown friend. Georg had smoked innumerable arrant-leaf cylinders.
"That is between her and me.... You have been following the general news, I assume? I provided you with it." He rolled a little cylinder of the arrant-leaf, and lighted it. "Yes," said Georg. Georg was waiting for our captor to lay his cards before us. Tarrano knew it; his smile broadened. "I shall not mince words, Georg Brende. Between men, that is not necessary.
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