By Arnold Jansen op de Haar
Engel, p 91: She ran as fast as she could, keeping going and going farther, until she ran out of breath, still she didn’t stop. When she reached the Italian Gardens she couldn’t continue and at last she dared to glance over her shoulder.
Engel, p 111: The brickwork of the Crusting Pipe was in places darkened by candles and this made its vaulted arches look even more like old Dickensian mine tunnels… He and Angel were sitting opposite each other, looking somewhat self-consciously, in one of the booths inside the basement wine bar.
© Arnold Jansen op de Haar
© Translation Holland Park Press
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