You could barely make out the two men in the half-lit, wide shop.
The one was a true proprietor, tall-legged, very broad-shouldered, a budding fifties. He wore a monstrous gift, and was, regardless of the evening hours, in the highest gala: in broad harem pants, silk-padded upper sponge, and provided with a velvet coat, as girlfriends used to wear it. This colossus had rather rough features according to his body; big water-blue eyes and a huge shaggy beard. His hair played gray and stood rigidly under the hat in irregular parts.
The other was a men of one and twenty years, very elegant and well-dressed, with a fresh, mischievous face, brown locks of hair, with a duster hat on his head, and dressed in a sponge. He also had a rich gift with a gold-embroidered thing.
The men were in the most engaging conversation. The old man seemed very excited and preached on the youth, though in a suppressed voice, but most eagerly. What he was reciting was certainly a matter of paramount importance to him-a question of life.
These persons were: the old man, Vincent, proprietor in the good city of Amsterdam, and the youth, Jim, a North Dutch man, and a fan of Elizabeth, the owner of this building which contained the shop.
Mon Apr 15 20:56:28 2019