Robert Frobisher: [narrating] Dinner of pheasant with Bordeaux rich as buttercream. How I love to listen to men of distinguished lives sing of past follies and glories. The only broken note in the entire evening was Ayrs' wife, Jocasta, excusing herself early. Sensed the buried bone. Later I asked Ayrs about it, he said Kesselring had introduced Jocasta to him. I pried, had Kesselring been in love with her. The subject was a prickly one.Vyvyan Ayrs: Jocasta was a Jew. Obviously the relationship was impossible.Robert Frobisher: Why obviously?Vyvyan Ayrs: Can you really be so ignorant of what is happening in Germany?Robert Frobisher: [continues narration] At this point in my life all I know, Sixsmith, is that this world spins from the same unseen forces that twist our hearts.
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