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Updated: May 21, 2025
The one impression he never failed to make physically, morally, intellectually on young and old, women and men, was that of health, sanity, sweetness. This is the impression he seems to have made upon Mr. Howells, when he met the poet at Pfaff's early in the sixties. The critic I have alluded to inferred license in the man from liberty in the poet.
An indrawn breath, "Le Secret de Lady Audley." "Yes," responded Miriam sleepily. After the gay breakfast Miriam found herself alone in the schoolroom. listening inadvertently to a conversation going on apparently in Fraulein Pfaff's room beyond the little schoolroom. The voices were low, but she knew neither of them, nor could she distinguish words.
As I neither drank beer nor smoked, my part in the carousal was limited to a German pancake, which I found they had very good at Pfaff's, and to listening to the whirling words of my commensals, at the long board spread for the Bohemians in a cavernous space under the pavement. Nothing of their talk remains with me, but the impression remains that it was not so good talk as I had heard in Boston.
As I neither drank beer nor smoked, my part in the carousal was limited to a German pancake, which I found they had very good at Pfaff's, and to listening to the whirling words of my commensals, at the long board spread for the Bohemians in a cavernous space under the pavement. Nothing of their talk remains with me, but the impression remains that it was not so good talk as I had heard in Boston.
That night at Pfaff's must have been the last of the Bohemians for me, and it was the last of New York authorship too, for the time.
It was said, so far West as Ohio, that the queen of Bohemia sometimes came to Pfaff's: a young girl of a sprightly gift in letters, whose name or pseudonym had made itself pretty well known at that day, and whose fate, pathetic at all times, out-tragedies almost any other in the history of letters.
Fraulein Pfaff's words broke the silence accompanying the servant's progress from Gertrude whose soup-plate she had first seized, to Miriam more than half-way down the table.
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