through the cobblestoned alleyway and then in between plaster buildings. The woman could not keep up in the same way. She long-legged her stride beneath the long skirts and rounded a corner thinking ahead about where he'd pop out.
Another woman had stayed behind. She looked at her wristwatch. "I'll give them seven minutes."
After four a man entered the room. Both man and woman towered over a woman and girlchild slouching over sewing on a table close to the ground. A basket of sewing on the floor between sofa pillows. "Pepè, what are you doing here?"
The man lit a cigarette. The woman in black garb and a shawl tsk'd. The woman plucked the cigarette from his meaty hand and threw it out the door. "I heard they found another head," the man "whispered" his booming voice. The woman mocked a surprised look. Then said in normal speaking voice, "It was a soccer ball."
The woman sewing said loudly, in plain English, "She's lying." A hand moved the basket of sewing towards under the table. "Was futbol."
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