The Last Summer of Nicholas Perry
ACT I: THE REMEMBRANCE The champagne tasted like gold and regret. Nicholas Perry stood on the terrace of his Long Island estate and watched the moonlight scatter across the Sound, breaking into a million trembling shards. Somewhere inside, a jazz band was playing—Benny Goodman, if he could hear them through the open windows—and the guests were dancing, their laughter rising like smoke into the...
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