"How so?" asked Wild, curiously. ” “My Mom complains that she’s tired all the time. And now let's go back to the Shovels, and finish our brandewyn and bier, Muntmeester. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her.
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