[AC3-general] D as the memories rose. That wa

[Heupel <cad...@to...>]

O a restaurant. It was almost empty; she sat down before a dirty table
and ordered a cup of coffee. The only waiter in attendance--the rest
were probably in the street--was old and bleared of eye, but he stared
hard at the new customer. "You'd better git out of this," he said, as
Magdalena finished her unpleasant draught. "You ain't pretty, but you're
a lady, and they don't understand that sort here. Have you got much
money with you?" "About a dollar, and I certainly do not give the
impression of wealth. Most nursery maids are better dressed." "You'd
better git out, all the same." But the strong coffee had gone to
Magdalena's head, and she cared little what became of her. Nevertheless,
a moment later she was shrieking and struggling in the arms of a big
golden-bearded Russian. She barely grasped the sense of what followed.
There was a volley of screams and laughter; the man was cursing and
gripping her with the arms of a grizzly. Then there was a flash of
knives, and she was stumbling headlong through the crowd, hoot