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While still a child, I guessed that this very singular smile represented a strange little victory for each of the women: yes, a fleeting revenge for disappointed hopes, for the coarseness of men, for the rareness of beautiful and true things in this world.
Dreams of My Russian Summers by Andrei Makine
Let me know how this one is Robert,it's on my "to buy" list.
One day, I was already old, in the entrance of a public place a man came up to me.
Nora stepped out of the Rolls Royce, feeling uncomfortably conspicuous. Pendergast closed the door behind her, looking serenely indifferent to the incongruity of the elegant vehicle parked amidst the dust and noise of a large construction site.
They crossed the street, pausing at a high chain link fence. Beyond, the rich afternoon light illuminated the skeletal foundations of a row of old buildings. Several large dumpsters full of bricks lined the perimeter. Two police cars were parked along the curb and Nora could see uniformed cops standing before a hole in a brick retaining wall. Nearby stood a knot of businessmen in suits. The construction site was framed by forlorn tenements that winked back at them through empty windows.