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Updated: June 29, 2025
The Prince noticed that poor Vogotzine, who sat heavily down by his side, was not entirely sober. The enormous quantity of kummel he had absorbed, together with the terror produced by the article he had read, had proved too much for the good man: his face was fiery, and he constantly moistened his dry lips.
"I do love talking to women," he said, on the tide of a prolonged chuckle. "When they aren't deaf." Lady Holme still remained perfectly grave. "Do you? Why?" she inquired. "Can't you guess why?" "Our charity to our sister women?" She was smiling now. "You teach me such a lot," he said. He drank his Kummel. "I always learn something when I talk to a woman. I've learnt something from you."
Then, no longer Sarelli this, and that! The little house close to the ramparts! Two arms, two eyes, and nothing here," he tapped his breast, "but flames that made ashes quickly in her, like this ash !" he flicked the white flake off his cigar. "It's droll! You agree, hein? Some day I shall go back and kill her. In the meantime kummel!"
They once more went back to the dining-room, where the tea was served on a Russian tablecloth embroidered with a stag-hunt in red thread; and under the tapers a plain cake was displayed, with plates full of sweetstuff and pastry, and a barbarous collection of liqueurs and spirits, whisky, hollands, Chio raki, and kummel.
Then Hyacinthe, who took no coffee contemptuously declaring it to be a beverage only fit for door-keepers managed to rid himself of Rosemonde, who was sipping some kummel, in order to come and whisper to his sister: "I say, it was very stupid of you to taunt mamma in the way you did just now. I don't care a rap about it myself.
The Prince noticed that poor Vogotzine, who sat heavily down by his side, was not entirely sober. The enormous quantity of kummel he had absorbed, together with the terror produced by the article he had read, had proved too much for the good man: his face was fiery, and he constantly moistened his dry lips.
He insisted upon drinking three glasses of kummel why had they not poured in maple sirup? and, imagining that Jocquelet looked at him askance, he suddenly manifested the intention of cutting his head open with the carafe.
Or would you prefer whisky, gentlemen?" "Ginger-ale highballs are my favorite fruit," admitted Knowlton. "Can ginger ale be bought here?" "Indeed yes. At one milrei a bottle." "Cheap enough. Thomaz, three bottles of ginger ale and one of North American whisky the best. Cigars also. Out on the piazza." "Si, senhores." Schwandorf got up. "If you will pardon me, I will drink my kümmel.
'My dear frien'! he cried, 'good-bye, my dear frien'! tears of kummel standing in his eyes; the king lurched as he went, the courtier ambled, a strange party of intoxicated children to be entrusted with that barrowful of madness. You could never say the town was quiet; all morning there was a ferment in the air, an aimless movement and congregation of natives in the street.
I had seen the captain the captain had also seen me. Now I started to take anything I could lay my hands on. I snatched off the wall two silver-mounted cavalry pistols, a present from his brother to Schantze. I added a bottle of kümmel to the ham and the rye bread. The kümmel a present for Hoppner.
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