Your apartment.’ ‘You were saying? An accommodation?’ She watched him for a moment, his thin face, sunken cheeks, reedy eyes — all conspired t... give the man a haunted look. And he was dangerous, she knew now. ‘Yes. I feel snow in the air.’ He turned, looked her in the eye. ‘Well, good evening.’ He turned again and walked to a gray BMW parked in front of the entrance to her building. He got in, waved to her once while he backed out of the space, then drove off slowly into the gathering night.. "No, at home. My folks are both language professors. Mom always speaks Italian to me, and Dad always speaks French. I learned English on the street—it's my third language." I grinned because it really seems funny, even to me."Wow, that's weird. What do they speak to each other?" They speak English to each other. But, when I spoke English to them, they wouldn't hear me. They still don't." I felt the sort of weird feeling that always sets off in me. "I always sort of resented that, at least until. More

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