.. I was being touched. Hands on my arms. Hands on my waist as someone would move me aside so that they could pass. Suddenly, I felt like I was suffoc...ting. I pushed and shuffled and drove my body through the throngs of people, feeling more and more of their hands. Someone put a big, strong hand on my ass, but I didn’t turn to see who it was.The next room, through a set of open double doors, was still crowded, even though I found it easier to breathe. But, as soon as I entered, I saw my goal.. I had many happy memories to review in the back of my mind as I worked on my book. A few months later, the book was progressing nicely, and my publisher was again on good terms with me. Then one day I received a telegram from Madeline. This was the first communication that I had received from her since our trip to Genoa. But when I read it I froze. Juliette’s husband Stefano had died suddenly, from a heart attack. Madeline was going to Genoa to be with Juliette. Would I go with her? I. More

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