Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. “Okay, Mom. ” She said. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. That was Leonardo’s motto. I was not even sure whether it was loaded. It was still possible the child might be in safety.
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