[Before you read this story, you might want to take a look at my previous post, which provides context]
Franz drove them to the summit of a hill and stopped the car. With the others, Sylvia left the car to look at the crowded bay and the clustered white houses. Beyond the bay, the sun dipped toward darkness. Mauve deepened, blue paled to green, and rose grew a flaming edge. Sylvia wanted to wait for the last note of color, but she glanced at Franz, and he seemed nervous. His broad face, stung with sunburn at the cheeks, looked more feverish than healthy, and his small light eyes seemed almost wildly anxious.
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