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Summary
She remembers how this started — she had been walking with a friend and he had looked at her, stopped, looked at her again, slowly raised his eyes to her face, and tipped his hat. It might have been nothing, but Musichetta knew better, and had not been surprised a moment later when some ragged child came pounding around the corner to hand her a card.
Bookmarked by Yanez
14 Apr 2018
Bookmarker's Notes
Inspirador. Quedan muchas cosas por encontrar en el ladrillo. Secretos como éste.

