From her perch on the edge of a bathtub, red-haired Denise Delfau swung her pretty legs and contentedly scribbled in a notebook. It was all quite jolly, except for the water that occasionally splashed on to her clothes when the naked, groaning creature in the tub thrashed in agony. And it kept Denise near her lover, a highly unrefined German named Friedrich Berger. For Friedrich, Denise performed the task of inscribing the confessions of French Resistance fighters who had fallen into the clutches of the Gestapo of Rue de la Pompe.
Day...
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