War has been hard on the elite of Bucharest. The full and ample bellies of the great have shrunk. Once Bucharest had no peer in the confection of flaky pastries stuffed with creams, no rival in the sticky sweet aroma of the boulevards and bright cafes, aswarm with men & women who perfumed themselves instead of taking baths.
Today the food is plain and most of the well-sprung limousines are up on blocks. Rouge and a touch of the eyebrow pencil help to keep the officers looking smart, but in their hearts they know that soon they will have to...
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