Hoping to get a smile, maybe even a laugh, from the lady; I told her the story of my youth and the revolution. She graced me with a little smile, like one gives the mentally infirm when uncertain of what to do or say. Looking me in the eye she whispered one word; "Flagrante". I fainted. As my head hit the floor, the last thing I heard was her laugh; the sweet sound of success!
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