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“Would you like to learn to tango, darlin’?”
Yesterday, soon after a brief exchange with trade and finance sources, I ended up chatting extensively with my wife about a masterful, from what I recalled, American drama from the early 90s: Scent of a Woman.
Without stretching the parallel beyond Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade’s blindness, and a powerful dance lesson offered “free of charge” to a young lady called Donna – still in the darkness, upon my editor’s request, I tried to ...