ａ ｌｅｓｔａｔ／ｌｏｕｉｓ ｆａｎｍｉｘ
“Where’s the black cape and ‘finely tailored’ black coat and the silk tie and all that foolishness?” I asked.
Eyes locked on each other.
Then he broke the stillness and laughed without making a sound. But he went on studying me with a rapt expression that gave me a secret joy. And with the boldness of a child, he reached out and ran his fingers down the lapel of my gray velvet coat.
”Can’t always be the living legend,” he said. The voice was like a whisper that wasn’t a whisper. And I could hear his French accent so clearly, though I had never been able to hear my own.[1] ᴅʀᴀɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ – ɴɪʀᴠᴀɴᴀ [2] ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ᴏғ ᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ – ʟᴜᴅᴏ [3] ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴs – ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴs [4] ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴇ – ʟᴀɴᴀ ᴅᴇʟ ʀᴇʏ [5] ʙᴏɴᴇs ᴀɴᴅ sᴋɪɴ – ᴍɪʀᴀʜ [6] ʙᴜʏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs – ᴍᴀʀɪɴᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴀᴍᴏɴᴅs [7] ᴄᴀʀɴɪᴠᴀʟ ᴏғ ʀᴜsᴛ – ᴘᴏᴇᴛs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀʟʟ [8] ᴅᴀɴᴄɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ – ʙʀᴜᴄᴇ sᴘʀɪɴɢsᴛᴇᴇɴ [9] ʜᴀʀsʜ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍ – ᴡɪᴅᴏᴡsᴘᴇᴀᴋ [10] ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ – ᴄᴀʟᴠɪɴ ʜᴀʀʀɪs (ғᴇᴀᴛ. ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ɢᴏᴜʟᴅɪɴɢ) [11] ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇɴ – ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ[12] ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡ – ᴍᴜᴍғᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴏɴs
