Judging from the awkwardly strained
anticipation in the air here (Henry smoking two cigarettes at a time,
his sister trying out cardigans in ever so slightly different shades of
beige) you would think that Hannibal was crossing the Alps on his
elephant. With a build-up like this, written in bold capital letters
in-between the lines, things can only end in disappointment.
To be continued.
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