Mid-October, 1955 Alfie Saunders reached across the small restaurant table and let his hand linger on top of Brian Epstein’s long fingers. Brian smiled at his friend briefly, then withdrew his hand and slipped it into his lap. “You needn’t do that,” Alfie whispered. “Nobody can see us.” “Yes they can,” Brian whispered back. “They …
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Creme Tangerine 