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datatime: 2022-12-03 09:56:30 Author:krTtGFxE

'We were only over for three months, while his show ran. We were going back in September . . .'

Harry wanted to say Swann would have been mad not to have done so, but the comment was inappropriate. She didn't want blandishments; didn't need them. Didn't need anything, perhaps, but her husband alive again.

Harry wanted to say Swann would have been mad not to have done so, but the comment was inappropriate. She didn't want blandishments; didn't need them. Didn't need anything, perhaps, but her husband alive again.

'Don't blame New York,' he said. 'It can't help itself.'

'May I ask . . . your name?'

'To Hamburg,' she said, 'I don't like this city. It's too hot. And too cruel.'

'But you don't believe it?'

'I read about it. Tragic.'

'And he was no miracle-worker?'

'Did you ever see his performance?'

'I read about it. Tragic.'

'To Hamburg,' she said, 'I don't like this city. It's too hot. And too cruel.'

'Did you ever see his performance?'

'I called him a magician a while back,' Harry said. 'You corrected me.'

'Illusionist,' she said.

'I'm sorry. My name is Swann, Mr. D'Amour. Dorothea Swann. You may have heard of my husband?'

'I'd think sometimes-it was a kind of miracle that he let me into his life . . .'

'The letter,' she repeated.

He looked at her strangely, almost as though she'd said something obscene.

'We were only over for three months, while his show ran. We were going back in September . . .'

'Oh yes. I lived with Swann seven and a half years, and I got to understand him as well as anybody ever could. I learned to sense when he wanted me around, and when he didn't. When he didn't, I'd take myself off somewhere and let him have his privacy. Genius needs privacy. And he was a genius, you know. The greatest illusionist since Houdini.'

'Don't blame New York,' he said. 'It can't help itself.'

Valentin had appeared with a glass of milk. He set it down on the table in front of Harry. As he made to leave, she said: 'Valentin. The letter?'

'May I ask . . . your name?'

Harry wanted to say Swann would have been mad not to have done so, but the comment was inappropriate. She didn't want blandishments; didn't need them. Didn't need anything, perhaps, but her husband alive again.

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