First Sentence
Much later, when Jaime Astarloa wanted to piece together the scattered fragments of the tragedy and tried to remember how it all began, the first image that came to his mind was of the marquis and of the gallery in the palace overlooking the Retiro Gardens, with the first heat of summer streaming in through the windows, accompanied by such brilliant sunlight that they had to squint against the dazzle on the polished guards of their foils. Read the first page
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adela
again
arm
asked
astarloa
ayala
beneath
between
came
campillo
circeles
come
course
day
de
don
door
down
enough
even
everything
eyes
face
felt
fencing
few
find
first
foil
found
friend
gave
go
good
guard
hand
hard
head
himself
jaime
know
last
left
life
light
long
look
looked
looking
lucas
luis
madrid
maestro
man
marquis
master
matter
might
mind
moment
must
nothing
now
old
opponent
otero
parry
people
perhaps
place
policeman
prim
put
quarte
quite
right
room
say
see
seemed
should
something
still
stopped
table
take
thing
think
thought
thrust
time
took
two
voice
went
without
woman
words
years
young
