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Unformatted text preview: the district, the grand avenue which had once been the high street of the French and Spanish, and was now still full of mansions such as this. Of course two men were following him. But so what? He felt the big heavy gun in his pocket. Wooden handle, long barrel. All right. Beatrice let him in. "Oh, thank God, darling, Aaron is on tenterhooks. What can I get for you?" She glanced past him. She saw the man under the tree across the street. "Nothing, madam, thank you," said Yuri. "I like my coffee very black and strong, and I stopped for a nice quick shot of it in one of the little cafes." They stood in a massive center hall, with a grand stairway flowing up beyond them, branched at its landing, sending narrow stairs up the right wall and the left. The floor was mosaic tile and the walls were like those outside, a deep terra-cotta red. "That's exactly the kind of coffee I make," said Beatrice, taking his raincoat from him, virtually helping him out of it....
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- Spring '10