Page 183 of Lars


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I wanted to say, Considering I saw you kill a man yesterday by stomping on his windpipe, I’d say that’s high praise.

But instead, I just nodded and sipped my wine.

“Are you Swedish?” Dario asked.

“Is my accent that obvious?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “I could only detect the smallest hint of it… mostly because I’ve dated a couple of Swedish girls in the past.”

Interesting.

“I was surprised you spoke English,” I said.

He laughed. “I could tell.”

“I thought nobody in here spoke English – not even the guards.”

“They offer it in every school in Italy, but our fellow inmates aren’t exactly scholars. The same goes for most of the guards.”

“But your accent is flawless – I never would have guessed you were Italian.”

“I have my father to thank for that. He insisted that my brothers and I have the best English tutors money could buy.”

“So you were… well-off,” I said diplomatically.

Dario smiled. “You could say that.”

I looked around the room and wondered how much money it took to bribe a warden for this kind of set-up.

“In return for teaching me to defend myself,” Dario said, “I can offer you wine, good food, and better accommodations… but is there anything else you want?”

“Well… there is one thing…”

“Name it.”

“I’d like to learn Italian.”

Dario nodded. “It would be beneficial to know it in here.”

“Yes, but there’s another reason.”

Dario gave me a quizzical look.

I thought of Rachel and how she whispered to me in bed.

Sei cosi seducente… Hai gli occhi più belli che abbia mai visto…

“Well… there’s this woman…”

Dario grinned. “If there’s a better reason to learn Italian, I’ve never found it. They say that French is the language of love – but I say that Italian is the language of passion.”

The language of passion.

I liked that.

“You can teach me to speak it?”

“How long are you in for? Five years?”

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