By Leo Perutz; John Brownjohn (Translator)
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Extra resources for Little Apple
Yes, perhaps. Father had been an army officer in his youth, a lieutenant in the regulars. His sword and the faded group photograph that showed him surrounded by his brother officers still hung on the wall below Mother's portrait. Should he get up and take him aside? "May I have a word, Father? " No. For the past seventeen years Father had been a civil servant in the audit office of the Finance Ministry. Off to work at nine every morning, lunch at three-thirty sharp, then the newspaper, then the daily constitutional, the "big one" out to Dornbach on Sundays, the "little one" through town on weekdays, and finally, when evening came, a hand of cards or a glass of beer across the street - such had been Father's world and way of life for seventeen long years.
Kohout? With his stiff arm? That only leaves Feuerstein. I'll have him to reckon with, admittedly. He's a cunning devil - a born survivor. Whatever he wants, he gets. That fainting fit at the station was an act, you bet. He doesn't have any papers - not even a medical certificate. I doubt if he'll stand aside for me without an argument. He's got money, too - in fact he's supposed to be really well-off, an industrialist or something. Still, that could count against him, his money and his occupation.
He'd lost the urge to confide in one for whom news of Selyukov took second place to Curasao, lump sugar and sardines. "I've received certain reports," he said curtly. "We must fix a meeting for tomorrow or the day after, no later ? the matter's urgent. " Emperger exclaimed. "Impossible! I'm dining with my boss tomorrow night, and the night after that I've got tickets for the opera. Days are no good ? I don't have a moment to spare now I'm settling in at the bank. Maybe you'll have to do without me this time -no, wait a minute!