Date two, in which all Hell breaks loose.
Wallander shifted from one foot to the other. She was late and he was getting cold. Meeting on the seafront was now seeming like less and less of a good idea, especially in Ystad in April, when the weather could be unpredictable to say the least. He pondered morosely that perhaps he wasn’t the only one with cold feet: she might have changed her mind about coming.
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