| 1933 Bagheria, Sicily Dottore Amendola stood quietly behind the glasspane of his office doorway watching his breath patterns onthe cold window. He rubbed his hands together behind hisback, idly massaging first one soft finger, then another. Corso Umberto was empty. Two wooden carts, eachheaded by a small ass, caught bis eye at the half-shutteredvineria across the street at the corner. He turned back through his reception room, stopping tokneel heavily before the Madonna, then his squat figurepassed comfortably under the low doorway into his office. HecrOssed to a marble sink against the wall. Carefully he roiled |
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