A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. Bach?” They unanimously said yes. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. Sepulchre's clock struck eight.
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This video was uploaded to erdmanporsche.com on 27-06-2024 22:23:52
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