He said, 'I should have killed you then… in Bologna… when you saw me… I should have put my knife… into… that Spanish… chauffeur.'
'Yes,' I said again. 'You should.'
He gave me a last dark look, not admitting defeat, not giving an inch. I watched him with unexpected regret. Watched him until the consciousness went out of his eyes, and they were simply open but seeing nothing.
The End
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