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By Giovanni Arpino

Infantrymen shuttle throughout Italy on the top of summer season, passing via Genoa, Rome and Naples. one of many infantrymen is blind, swish, gleefully vicious and wears a prosthetic arm; the opposite, two decades his junior, is his consultant. yet as those males drink their means via bars, brothels and teach carriages, who's guiding who? simply as they reluctantly method the blind man's vacation spot, and a stifled love affair, does the aim of the journey turn into tragically transparent. the foundation for 2 acclaimed motion pictures, smell of a lady is a lyrical exploration of remorse, defiance, and what it particularly skill to work out.

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Eat. ’ I asked, surprised. ‘The usual. ’ he mocked, but good-naturedly. ‘There are droves of them at every large port. Dark-skinned too if you want. ’ I laughed. He shrugged, annoyed. ‘I meant, while you’re walking. Or do you turn the other way when you see them? ’ ‘Check out a few. You never know,’ he concluded drily. He snapped open his watch. ‘Be back here at two. ’ Outside I bent over against the wind, exhilarated to be alone and by the thought of the new suit. But as I neared the port, that freedom already seemed unexciting.

Not yet. Only two. Hideous,’ I replied. ‘Maybe it’s a bad time. People are eating. ’ he wondered. It didn’t seem like a real question; I kept quiet. He stopped abruptly. ‘Listen. I don’t like this. It makes no sense,’ he said. ‘Find me a café. I’ll wait for you. You scout around. Then come back and get me. ’ I left him at the bar of a café. Behind his cigarette he was sweating, as if his strength had given out. ‘No haggling over money. And tell the truth,’ he reminded me, his breathing still shallow.

You have to start and stop exactly in step with me. Understood? Like clockwork. ’ ‘Yes, sir,’ I said, somehow managing to swallow a comment about the corridor being too dark. We were back in his room, or maybe his study, where various massive components of a stereo system peered out from the corners. The cat was breathing loudly from beneath the couch. At the cabinet, he poured two glasses of whisky to the brim, and immediately held one out, his right hand extended in space. ’ ‘Actually I rarely drink.

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