Children of no Man's Land by G.B. Stern — Read

I

"I am writing to you, my dear Zoe, from the Café Romanico. But indeed the talk all round me is so loud, I can hardly collect my thoughts. My finger is better, but I have a pain in my neck. I do not know what it can be, for as you know I do not squander money on doctor's bills, which reminds me, my dear Zoe, that it is quite impossible that you can already have spent the ten pounds I gave you on leaving...."