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Updated: May 23, 2025
I have thought better of it. I have nothing to ask." The old man sought no explanation for this sudden reconsideration. He looked more closely at Jean-Christophe, coughed, and said: "Herr Krafft, will you give me the letter that is in your hand?" Jean-Christophe saw that the Director's gaze was fixed on the paper which he was still unconsciously holding crumpled up in his hand.
The old man added a little to it to fill out the story; he conquered Spain, and almost conquered England, which he could not abide. Old Krafft used to intersperse his enthusiastic narratives with indignant apostrophes addressed to his hero. The patriot awoke in him, more perhaps when he told of the Emperor's defeats than of the Battle of Jena.
He was a shoulder striker and a thug; but he had one sure streak of loyalty in that nothing could ever induce him to go back on a pal. For various reasons he considered Krafft a pal. He was very much troubled. "Look here, boss," he said to Krafft, "It just come to my mind a while ago: what was the name of that bloke you told me to keep off'n? The Cora trial man, I mean."
"Perhaps," said Dove, mouthing deliberately as if he had a good thing on his tongue; perhaps, by now, he is safe in the arms of " "Jesus or Morpheus?" asked a cockney 'cellist. "Safe in the arms of Jesus!" sang the tipsy pianist; but he was outsung by Krafft, who, rising from his seat, gave with dramatic gesture: O sink' hernieder, Nacht der Liebe, gieb Vergessen, dass ich lebe ...
If she had been drawn, irresistibly, to another, by one of those sudden outbursts of passion before which she was incapable of remaining steadfast; if she had been attracted, like this, more than half unwilling, wholly humiliated, penitent in advance, yet powerless then, oh then, how willingly he would have made allowance for her weakness! But Krafft, of all people!
All the low elements lurked here, the thugs, strong-arm men, the hold-ups, the heelers, the weaklings, the bums, the diseased. In ordinary times they here dwelt in a twilight existence; but at periods of excitement as when the city burned they swarmed out like rats for plunder. Krafft held his way steadily to the wharves. There he left the causeway and descended to the level of the beach.
KRAFFT. A very similar object on the N., of about the same dimensions; with a central peak, and a large crater on the dark floor abutting on the S.W. wall, and another of about half the size on the outer side of the W. border.
Lorenz, and then slowly make his way to the Thiergarten Gate, where, along the Seilersgasse to the churchyard, rise at regular intervals the seven stone pillars on which Adam Krafft has carved, in beautiful bas-reliefs, scenes from the Passion of the Lord.
Schilsky laid his hand affectionately on Krafft's shoulder, and Krafft sprang up in exaggerated surprise.
He looked at Christophe with his sleepy eyes, in which there was no light as the young man murmured his name. He bowed automatically, said nothing, nodded towards a chair, and with a sigh, sank down on the divan and piled the cushions about himself. Christophe repeated: "I have already had the honor.... You were kind enough.... My name is Christophe Krafft...."
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