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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Have I ever broken it? Never again will I sing in this City. It is so." Bellamy looked around. The garden of the villa was enclosed by high gray stone walls. They were secure here, at least, from eavesdroppers. She rested her fingers lightly upon his arm, holding up the skirts of her loose gown with her other hand. "I have spoken to you," he said, "of Dorward, the American journalist."
Bellamy raised his tumbler to his lips and set it down again. "Forgive me," he said, "I do not think that I am thirsty." Dorward drank his off at a gulp. Almost immediately he closed his eyes. Bellamy, with a little shrug of the shoulders, left him alone. As he passed along to his own coupe, he met Louise in the corridor. "You have seen Von Behrling?" he whispered. She nodded.
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