David Golder
Irène Némirovsky
1929
Chapter I
“No,” said Golder.
He moved the shade with a brusque gesture, so that the lamp light fell full on the features of Simon Marcus, who sat opposite him, at the other side of the table. For a moment he looked at the lines and wrinkles that seamed Marcus’s dark face, that rippled over it, whenever he moved his lips or his eyelids, so that it…
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