″‘It’s another picture of that man,’ said Elsbeth. ‘My little sister saw one yesterday and thought it was Charlie Chaplin.’
Anna looked at the staring eyes, the grim expression. She said, ‘It’s not a bit like Charlie Chaplin except for the mous tache.’
They spelled out the name under the photograph. Adolf Hitler.”
“Turandot served him in meditative silence. Charles knocked back his beaujolais, wiped his moustaches with the back of his hand, and then looked absent-mindedly in the direction of the outside world.”