Mr. Holstein turned out to be an old Jew. Short in stature with a belly as round as a ball, he resembled her grandfather Beer, as his father nicknamed him for his eternal abuse of high-proof drinks, especially beer.

The unpleasant, sly smile hid some kind of trick, but she couldn’t figure out what.

A clean entrance hall, a spacious kitchen and living room, the second floor of two bedrooms simply sparkled from the recent cleaning. The smell was of fresh baked goods from a nearby pizzeria, so it was impossible to comprehend why such magnificent housing could cost so little, and even for a Jew.

– What’s wrong here, admit it right away. – the girl demanded, narrowing her hawk eye.

More recently, she was questioning administration officials in London with the same intensity, looking for clues in suspicious reshuffles in posts and the upcoming election of the British Prime Minister.

– Darling, take it and that’s it. – After a pause, the owner of the house began. He seemed startled by the question, but for a moment, no more. This happens if an actor is poorly trained, and he is thrown off by a dissatisfied exclamation from the director. Then the smile appeared again on the shiny face.

– This will not work. Confess, or I'll go home.

Unable to withstand her pressure, the old Jew nevertheless cried out.

– There are ghosts roaming here!

The thin athletic body shook in feverish laughter. This old guy has completely lost his mind. “God, how lucky I am. I buy a house three times cheaper than the market price, which, due to random circumstances, was inherited from a crazy Jew. Well, we have to take it."

Mr. Holstein laughed timidly along with Glenda, but his hands began to tremble.

– I'm buying.

Surprised by such a sudden change in mood and the pleasant outcome of the meeting, the owner squealed with pleasure.

The new owner of the apartment, when signing the contract, could not help but notice some oddities, but she reassured herself that she had simply overheated her head in the sun.

It seemed to her for a moment that her right big toe was missing, that instead of it there was a bloody stump with dried blood. She closed her eyes and looked again at the well-groomed foot in the sandal, the burgundy polish looked great on her big toe.

After shaking hands after a successful transaction, the man with a check for an enviable amount and the girl with the keys to her own home in the city center went off on opposite sides of the street. Walking proudly along Vesterbrogade, Glenda thought about how quickly she was changing her life to a new one. A new home, although previously she had only rented accommodation in London. A new image, because she had never curled her hair before. All that's left is to find a guy and a job, and it's done.

“Do I want a new relationship so soon after cheating? No I do not want to. I need a new job. For what? To feed yourself? I have a ton of money, I could spend another whole year on a spree and still have some left over, considering my needs. Maybe it’s worth resting a little and surrendering to life as it is, completely, all-consumingly?”

Reasoning in this way, Glenda Miller plunged into a three-day bender. Clubs, parties, new acquaintances and love. That evening, while celebrating the purchase of her first property in Dunkel, she immediately hooked up with the young and handsome Jornas. Rocking out to electro house and tequila, he seemed incredibly attractive to her, and she went with him to her room.

The next morning, he proposed a relationship with her, and without resisting for a long time, the girl, who had recently realized that she had begun a new round of life, agreed.