Coffee, the angel's game

/files/u3/iStock_000007628238XSmall_0.jpg" width="283" align="right" height="387" />"When she returned with the steaming coffee, I had just read the last page. Isabella sat down opposite me. I smiled and slowly sipped the delicious brew. The girl wrung her hands and gritted her teeth, glancing now and then at the pages of her story, which I had left face down on the table. She held out for a couple of minutes without saying a word.

'And?' she said at last.


Her face lit up.

'My story?'

'The coffee.'"


From The Angel's Game, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

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