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The South - Part I
Katherine Proctor
24 October 1950, Barcelona
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Night is coming down and there is a hum of noise from the street. I have been here for several weeks. I am grateful that the fat woman who runs this hotel and her little mouse of a husband do not speak English. I remain a mystery to them; they cannot get through to me. The man in the next room- as far as I can understand a word he says- goes to the opera every night and listens to opera on his radio all the time.
They want to know about my husband. They found a man who would act as interpreter for them and he asked me: 'where is your husband?' the fat woman was there looking at me and the opera man. I told them he was coming soon and I was waiting for him. 'where is he now?' the man asked me and I told him that my husband was in Paris.
It is difficult for me being on my own and it has been since I left. In the street sometimes I think I am being followed. I try not to move
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