If anything, she seemed inwardly pleased. At dinner, the two of them carried on like sisters or long-lost friends, talking animatedly with lots of lau...hter. Carlo and I talked photography and motorcycles. Afterward, there was still a lot of night left so I asked everyone what they would like to do.“I want to stop in the shops on the way back to pick out what to wear for the weekend,” Esther answered, putting a hand on Marisol’s shoulder, “and now I have someone to shop with.”Carlo and I grinned. “Is there some problem?” she asked softly. “This case is a bit… but I’ll cope with it.” “Great, “she said and clicked her pen. She had taken her shoes off – pointed-toe, leather mules, size six. Her feet were dangling limply a few inches off the floor, and looked very small, almost childish. They were not moving at all. I thought that her restlessness was entirely channeled into her hands. I heard the pen click again and smiled. For a moment I peered at the gentle curve of her instep and the. More

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