As soon as the car started, Van Norden took out a newspaper and tied up his pots and pans. Cooking was forbidden in his new residence. By the time we got to our destination, his luggage had all been unpacked again, and it wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if the landlady hadn’t poked her head out the door when we arrived. She exclaimed, “Oh, my God!”! What the hell is going on here? What does that mean? Frightened by her, Van Norden did not know what to say, but said in French, “It’s me …” It’s me, ma’am! Then he turned to me and muttered viciously, “This fool!”! Did you see her face? She’s going to get me in trouble. The hotel was located in a rectangle behind a dark path, very similar to a modern reformatory. The wardrobe was large and lusterless, although the shadows on the tiled walls were magnificent. Bird cages were hung in the windows, and little enamel signs were pinned here and there, begging guests in trite language not to do this,endless swim pool, not to forget that. The hotel was almost spotless, but poor, shabby, and in a state of decay. The upholstered chairs are tied together with wire, unpleasantly reminiscent of the electric chair. Van Norden’s room was on the fifth floor, and on the way up he told me that Maupassant had once stayed there,massage bathtub manufacturers, and that there was a strange smell in the hall. Some of the windows on the fifth floor had no glass, and we stood for a moment looking at the tenants who were crossing the courtyard. It was almost dinnertime, and people were going back to their houses in twos and threes. They all looked listless and depressed. People who live on honest labor are always like that. Most of the windows were wide open, and the dark room seemed to be full of yawning mouths. The occupants of the house were also yawning or scratching themselves. It is not too much to say that they are a bunch of madmen when they move around restlessly and obviously without any purpose. We were walking down the corridor towards room 57, when suddenly a door opened in front of us, and an old witch with shaggy hair and crazy eyes peeped at us through the door. She gave us such a fright that we just stood there, stunned. For a full minute, the three of us stood there, unable to move a step or even make a meaningful gesture. I saw behind the witch a kitchen table, on which lay a naked baby. It was a little trick not much bigger than a plucked chicken. At last the old man took a step forward with a slop bucket beside him. We stepped aside to let her pass, and the baby inside let out a heartbreaking scream as the door closed behind her. This is room 56. Between 56 and 57 is the bathroom. The old witch went there to pour dirty water. Van Norden was silent as soon as we stepped on the stairs, Chinese spa manufacturer ,endless pool swim spa, but his eyes were still very attractive. When I opened the door of number 57, I felt like I was going crazy for a very short moment. A large mirror, covered with green gauze, hung askew at an angle of forty-five degrees opposite the door, under which stood a baby carriage full of books. Van Norden did not smile at all. He walked coolly over, grabbed a book and looked through it, much like a man who has just entered the public library and has walked without thinking to the nearest shelf. It wouldn’t have seemed so ridiculous if I hadn’t accidentally seen a pair of bicycle handlebars in the corner. The handlebars looked very peaceful and contented, as if it had been dozing there for years. It suddenly made me feel as if we had both been in this room for an incalculable amount of time, such as it was. This is a gesture we recall in our dreams, a dream we can never get rid of, a dream that can be shattered by a slight gesture and a slight blink. But what was even more surprising was that I suddenly had a real dream in my mind, a dream I had only had last night, in which I saw Van Norden in a corner, as he was now, studying the handlebars. But the difference is that there is no bicycle handlebar in the corner, but there is a woman with two legs curled up. I saw him standing there looking down at the woman with an anxious, eager look in his eyes, as he always does when he wants something very much.
The street in which it had happened became obscure, except for the angle between the two walls and the woman’s trembling body. I saw him pounce on her in his swift animal way, regardless of what was going on around him, but determined to do as he pleased. His eyes seemed to say, “You can kill me when it’s over, but let me get it in now.” I have to get it in! So he leaned over the woman, and they both hit their heads against the wall, and he was so erect that he could hardly get into her. Suddenly, he straightened up, straightened his clothes, and looked very bored. It was his specialty to make such an expression, and when he suddenly found his toy thrown on the road, he was ready to walk away. It was about the thickness of a broomstick cut off by a saw, and he picked it up indifferently and put it under his arm. As he walked away, I saw two very large orbs swinging from one end of the broomstick to the other, like tulip bulbs, and I heard him mutter to himself, “Flower pots..” Flowerpots The servant came panting and sweating, and Van Norden looked at him in puzzlement. Then the landlady strutted in. She walked straight up to Van Norden,garden jacuzzi tub, snatched the book from his hand, put it in the pram, and without a word pushed the pram out into the corridor.

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