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“But nothing here was what it seemed. Even the grey stone of the buildings hid within itself a score of secret tints, to be revealed only by one momentary strand of light. At first, the tide of secrecy that rippled through the streets had made him tense and watchful, but in time he realised that in a city of clandestine passions, everyone was a spy.” — Alan Furst
But nothing here was what it seemed. Even the grey stone of the buildings hid within itself a score of secret tints, to be revealed only by one momentary strand of light. At first, the tide of secrecy that rippled through the streets had made him tense and watchful, but in time he realised that in a city of clandestine passions, everyone was a spy.