RachmaninovChapter 5
Torrington, Connecticut Clara was frying bacon the next morning, when Georg entered the kitchen. He was attired, of course, in a gray, three-piece suit, white shirt and a striped tie – that Clara had never before seen. He seemed to have an unlimited supply of unseen ties to go with his ‘uniform’ of the gray suit. It was almost the same gray as the color of the Ukrainian intelligence service – the SBU. “Miss Clara,” Georg nagged at her for perhaps the hundredth time, “cooking is something...