Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something—an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago.
He placed her in a swirling gown within a blaze of gold rectangles, spirals and Egyptian symbols from which she looked out in nervous loveliness, the epitome of Vienna's Golden Age.
And a lot of times your clues are cold, but really we reconstruct it the same way a forensic scientist would go in and reconstruct a mystery surrounding a murder case.
All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of them present such singular features as the strange train of circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe.
Mr Assad's tightening grip over the most populous cities along a north-south axis in Syria's west has dimmed the prospects, always faint, of peace talks that were said to be in the offing in Geneva.