M entre notes suggested the turntable blues, your Martucci, Hunter Legends, prepares to decide whether what he had under his nose fell within the category mentioned or not. From bad poker player that I was, I would not have had the right nose to sniff out a bluff. Yet the instinct told me that:
No, not a fake. It 's true.
But some evidence would have made me comfortable. Evidence of who might have been Ernesto Maria Pasquali, what really represented the absence of documents on him, and that his mocking smile.
We wanted someone who knew more than me. So interpellai a noted historian of silent film in search of vague confirmations and new tracks. Preliminary investigations were therefore initiated, and when an envelope full of photocopies and information finally arrived in my mailbox, including bills and supermarket advertising, finally I had to do with a tangible sign of legend. Narcotic smell, including adrenaline and gasoline, including travel and suspicion, that when you breathe you can not pretend nothing happened.
The clues in the envelope Pasquali said that he was a brilliant, caustic and, when needed.
The irrefutably proved that advertising sneer against Arturo Ambrosio, noble competitor, and his former master.
simply shrug his voice would sound good reason, and would not be there if that Ernesto Maria Pasquali was the custom, from time to time, to "peek producing competitor. And they were all a little bit. This was the clue I was looking for? The only thing that seemed to emerge was that I was dealing with an unpredictable character, ironic and full of facets, and certainly different from his contemporaries prim and mustache. Should suffice to make a decision? Not yet. I wanted to try a more flavorful bite first to see if this was the legend that was looking for.
No, not a fake. It 's true.
But some evidence would have made me comfortable. Evidence of who might have been Ernesto Maria Pasquali, what really represented the absence of documents on him, and that his mocking smile.
We wanted someone who knew more than me. So interpellai a noted historian of silent film in search of vague confirmations and new tracks. Preliminary investigations were therefore initiated, and when an envelope full of photocopies and information finally arrived in my mailbox, including bills and supermarket advertising, finally I had to do with a tangible sign of legend. Narcotic smell, including adrenaline and gasoline, including travel and suspicion, that when you breathe you can not pretend nothing happened.
The clues in the envelope Pasquali said that he was a brilliant, caustic and, when needed.
The irrefutably proved that advertising sneer against Arturo Ambrosio, noble competitor, and his former master.
simply shrug his voice would sound good reason, and would not be there if that Ernesto Maria Pasquali was the custom, from time to time, to "peek producing competitor. And they were all a little bit. This was the clue I was looking for? The only thing that seemed to emerge was that I was dealing with an unpredictable character, ironic and full of facets, and certainly different from his contemporaries prim and mustache. Should suffice to make a decision? Not yet. I wanted to try a more flavorful bite first to see if this was the legend that was looking for.
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