[Milu]

Very hard I would say, in case you'd like to make an educated guess here's another snippet. I've left out the name at the end as that would make it obvious.

"The American lived in an old rambling farm house. When he bought it he added some modern features for comfort, electricity came from a generator he installed himself. The house was high in the mountains in a clearing beyond some woods. It was typical of a house in the mountains, where a house is judged by its ability to stand for at least 50 years without attention and fresh paint is considered eccentric, for less informed students of architecture It was big, old, damp and draughty. The woman who shared his house had once been beautiful. She did not go into town much and kept to herself. When she went into town she took the American's car. In a place where cars were so rare a woman driving was enough to cause talk, her height, modish clothes and scarred face only added to the gossip. She did not do much in the house, Nella would cycle up and help with cooking, cleaning and laundry. The gossips said she sat about thinking of what part of herself to paint next, Nella gave no fuel for their gossip. She would never hear a word against them.

The American's car was a little grey coupe, he would use it to drive to the city, in the mountains he would use one of the motorcycles he traded or an old military jeep left over from the war. Just after the war jeeps were cheap and plentiful but they had been hard used, not everyone could afford to keep them running, The American's always seemed to work without problems, despite the places it was made to travel the American never seemed to get stuck in mud or go off the road like other drivers.

The American had a lot of farmland which he leased to his neighbours. He obviously had some money but not enough to be a gentleman of leisure as he would work at repairing anything mechanical, when asked for his account he would simply say, just give me half what the mechanic in the city would ask. The American traded bicycles and motorcycles with the locals . He spent a lot of time tramping in the mountains, with a shotgun, fishing rod or mushroom basket according to the season and sometimes just to be with his own thoughts. He would play chess when he could find a worthy opponent and cards at Colomba's osteria. The American was fascinated with the local folklore and history, he would often seek out the old folks and make them tell their tales, sometimes at Colomba's he would tell ghost stories, on these nights everything stopped in the osteria because everyone wanted to listen. The American was never too busy to stop and talk, he always had the time to help a neighbour or to tell a fanciful tale to a child. He always had a smile but the sparkle in his eye seemed to mask a hidden hurt, perhaps nostalgia for the man he used to be or for a world he used to know.

Despite being very different he blended into the community. This was XXXXX XXXXX, called the American in the Remegian Mountains."