Rosa Helen Ricchebuono, French-Canadian sister of a nun and two Catholic priests, lived obscurely with her hard-working husband Bernard in a cheap flat on Manhattan's dark, noisy Third Avenue, near 43rd Street. When Bernard would go out evenings to solicit insurance, big, broad-faced Rosa would wave a loving farewell to him from the window. One stifling summer night last year Bernard had gone out and Rosa, after a bath, was puttering about her kitchen in a loose gown. Through the open door strode a great, bullish man.
"What do you want?" asked Rosa,...
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