Tell me something. Why did I have to know the truth about Margot and know it with absolute certainty? Or rather why, knowing the truth, did I have to know more, prove more, see? Does one need to know more, ever more and more, in order that one put off acting on it or maybe even not act at all?

Emotionlessly she kissed me in the vineyard and walked off down the row. We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked up at each other for the last time.

I just like to talk to people. I don&#39;t know how to bridge the gap between getting to know someone and then schmoozing and sort of working contacts and business connections.

Written By Michael Rady

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