Of course, at home there would have been questions. Neither combatant could use his sword; and in strength the fugitive was evidently superior to his antagonist. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. The manager twisted his moustache. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Anna watched her with curious eyes.
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