His name is John. " "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. When first you left your home you had no idea that I was the hidden impulse. In your heart you know quite well that all that you have said is useless.
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