He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. "Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Dutchman, removing the pipe from his mouth, and speaking in a deep and guttural voice, "leave the affair to Johannes. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. I have never loved you. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 12:19:48
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