“How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. To write under a pseudonym!—to be forced to disown his children! He could not write under his own name, enjoy the fruits of fame should these tales prove successful. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone.
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