will soon be coming.”
I helped her bring in the bundles of newspapers from outside and unpack them. Across the street Schmitz was just coming back from market with his vegetable truck, and I jumped back into the shop so he wouldn’t see me—but he had already seen me. Even the devil’s eyes can’t be as sharp as the neighbors’. I stood there in the shop and looked at the early morning papers which most men are so crazy about. I am only interested in newspapers in the evening or in the bath, and in the bath the most solemn morning papers seem to me as ridiculous as the evening papers. The headline this morning was: “Strauss: With unshakeable determination!” It might after all be better to leave the composing of an editorial or the headlines to a computing machine. There are limits beyond which idiocy should be prohibited. The shop bell went, a little girl, eight or nine years old, with black hair and red cheeks and freshly washed, her prayer book under her arm, entered the shop. “Gumdrops,” she said, “a nickel’s worth.” I didn’t know how many gumdrops could be bought for a nickel, I opened the glass jar and counted twenty into a paper bag andfor the first time was ashamed of my not quite clean fingers which were magnified through the thick candy jar. The little girl looked at me in amazement as twenty candies fell into the bag, but I said: “It’s all right, run along,” and I took her nickel from the counter and threw it into the till.
Marie laughed when she came back and I proudly showed her the nickel. “Now you must go,” she said.
“But why?” I asked, “can’t I wait till your father comes down?”
“When he comes down, at nine, you have to be back here again. Now go,” she said, “you must tell your brother Leo before he hears about it from someone else.”
“Yes,” I said, “you’re right—and how about you,” I was blushing again, “don’t you have to go to school?”
“I’m not going today,” she said, “I’m never going again. Hurry back.”
I found it hard to leave her, she came with me as far as the shop door, and I kissed her in the open doorway so Schmitz and his wife across the street could see. They goggled like fish who suddenly discover to their surprise that they have swallowed the hook.
I went off without looking back. I felt cold, turned up my collar, lit a cigarette, made a little detour across the market place, walked along the Franziskanerstrasse and at the corner of Koblenzstrasse jumped on the moving bus, the conductress opened the door for me, wagged a finger at me when I stood beside her to pay, shook her head and pointed to my cigarette. I stubbed it out, put it in my pocket, and went through to the middle. I just stood there, looking out into Koblenzstrasse, and thought about Marie. Something in my face seemed to annoy the man next to me. He even lowered his paper, stopped reading his “Strauss: With unshakeable determination,” pushed his glasses down onto his nose, looked at me, shook his head, and murmured “Incredible.” The woman sitting behind him—I had almost fallen over a big bag of carrots which wasstanding next to her—nodded at his comment, shook her head too, and moved her lips soundlessly.
For once I had combed my hair with Marie’s comb in front of her mirror, the jacket I was wearing was gray, clean, and quite ordinary, and my beard was never so heavy that one day without shaving would have made me look “incredible.” I am neither too tall nor too short, and my nose is not so long that it is noted in my passport under Distinguishing Marks. It says there: None. I was neither dirty nor drunk, and yet the woman with the bag of carrots was quite upset, more so than the man with the glasses, who finally after a last despairing shake of his head pushed up his glasses again and turned his attention to Strauss’ determination. The woman swore silently under her breath, making restless movements with her head so as to
I helped her bring in the bundles of newspapers from outside and unpack them. Across the street Schmitz was just coming back from market with his vegetable truck, and I jumped back into the shop so he wouldn’t see me—but he had already seen me. Even the devil’s eyes can’t be as sharp as the neighbors’. I stood there in the shop and looked at the early morning papers which most men are so crazy about. I am only interested in newspapers in the evening or in the bath, and in the bath the most solemn morning papers seem to me as ridiculous as the evening papers. The headline this morning was: “Strauss: With unshakeable determination!” It might after all be better to leave the composing of an editorial or the headlines to a computing machine. There are limits beyond which idiocy should be prohibited. The shop bell went, a little girl, eight or nine years old, with black hair and red cheeks and freshly washed, her prayer book under her arm, entered the shop. “Gumdrops,” she said, “a nickel’s worth.” I didn’t know how many gumdrops could be bought for a nickel, I opened the glass jar and counted twenty into a paper bag andfor the first time was ashamed of my not quite clean fingers which were magnified through the thick candy jar. The little girl looked at me in amazement as twenty candies fell into the bag, but I said: “It’s all right, run along,” and I took her nickel from the counter and threw it into the till.
Marie laughed when she came back and I proudly showed her the nickel. “Now you must go,” she said.
“But why?” I asked, “can’t I wait till your father comes down?”
“When he comes down, at nine, you have to be back here again. Now go,” she said, “you must tell your brother Leo before he hears about it from someone else.”
“Yes,” I said, “you’re right—and how about you,” I was blushing again, “don’t you have to go to school?”
“I’m not going today,” she said, “I’m never going again. Hurry back.”
I found it hard to leave her, she came with me as far as the shop door, and I kissed her in the open doorway so Schmitz and his wife across the street could see. They goggled like fish who suddenly discover to their surprise that they have swallowed the hook.
I went off without looking back. I felt cold, turned up my collar, lit a cigarette, made a little detour across the market place, walked along the Franziskanerstrasse and at the corner of Koblenzstrasse jumped on the moving bus, the conductress opened the door for me, wagged a finger at me when I stood beside her to pay, shook her head and pointed to my cigarette. I stubbed it out, put it in my pocket, and went through to the middle. I just stood there, looking out into Koblenzstrasse, and thought about Marie. Something in my face seemed to annoy the man next to me. He even lowered his paper, stopped reading his “Strauss: With unshakeable determination,” pushed his glasses down onto his nose, looked at me, shook his head, and murmured “Incredible.” The woman sitting behind him—I had almost fallen over a big bag of carrots which wasstanding next to her—nodded at his comment, shook her head too, and moved her lips soundlessly.
For once I had combed my hair with Marie’s comb in front of her mirror, the jacket I was wearing was gray, clean, and quite ordinary, and my beard was never so heavy that one day without shaving would have made me look “incredible.” I am neither too tall nor too short, and my nose is not so long that it is noted in my passport under Distinguishing Marks. It says there: None. I was neither dirty nor drunk, and yet the woman with the bag of carrots was quite upset, more so than the man with the glasses, who finally after a last despairing shake of his head pushed up his glasses again and turned his attention to Strauss’ determination. The woman swore silently under her breath, making restless movements with her head so as to
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