By Eric Ambler
Nicky Marlow wishes a task. He’s engaged to be married and the employment marketplace is lovely narrow in Britain in 1937. So whilst his fiancé issues out the Spartacus computer device detect, he jumps on the likelihood. in the end, he speaks Italian and he figures he’ll have the ability to undergo Milan for a yr, lengthy sufficient to avoid wasting cash. quickly after he arrives, besides the fact that, he learns the sinister fact of his predecessor’s dying and unearths himself courted by way of brokers with dangerously diverse agendas. within the method, Marlow realizes it’s now not so basic to simply do the activity he’s paid to do in fascist Italy at the eve of an international struggle.
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He— No, she thought. He wouldn't. He was angry with her. Furious. Julianna rubbed at her wet cheeks, shuddering, remembering that last night, the night he had discovered her pregnancy. He had been away on business for several weeks. She had meant to tell him that night, had planned every moment of the evening, wanting their reunion to be special, wanting to set the perfect stage for her announcement. She had been so excited, so certain John would be thrilled with her news. Instead, he had become a man she hadn't recognized, coldly furious and cruel.
She'd tried, but hotels wanted identification; she needed a driver's license in case she was pulled over; Buster had demanded a social security number as a prerequisite for employment. Julianna shook her head. It didn't matter that she hadn't changed her name—John was not going to find her, not all the way down here. That man on the street had been a trick of her imagination, just like the woman in the bathroom at Buster's. Shuddering, Julianna fought to free herself from the sheets, tangled around her legs, encumbered by her ungainly size.
We're sick and tired of your attitude. Of you thinking you're better than the rest of us. " At the animosity in the older woman's tone and expression, Julianna inched backward, glancing over her shoulder, looking for Buster. He was nowhere to be seen. " Lorena took another step; the others followed. "Just 'cause you went and got yourself knocked up, you think you don't have to work? " Another one of the girls, Suzi, pointed a long, bloodred fingernail at her. "When you show up late, we've gotta cover your tables.
Cause for Alarm by Eric Ambler