The Promised Land
The café sat between a bookstore and a tailor on the Left Bank, and it was the cheapest place in the neighborhood. Jack knew this because he had checked every café on the Left Bank when he arrived in Paris in the autumn of 1923. He was twenty-four, a veteran of the Great War, and he had learned to check everything twice. The old man sat at the same table every day. He ordered the cheapest...
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