Kitabı oku: «Рассказы / Short Stories», sayfa 8

Miss Martha blushed. Will he think of the hand that placed the butter in the bread? Will he —

The front door bell jangled viciously. Somebody was coming in, making a great deal of noise.

Miss Martha hurried to the door. Two men were there. One was a young man smoking a pipe – a man she had never seen before. The other was her artist.

His face was very red, his hat was on the back of his head. He clinched his two fists and shook them ferociously at Miss Martha. At Miss Martha!

“Dummkopf¹⁸!” he shouted with extreme loudness; and then “Tausendonfer¹⁹!” or something like it in German.

The young man tried to draw him away.

“I vill not go,” he said angrily. “You haf shpoilt me²⁰,” he cried, his blue eyes blazing behind his spectacles. “I vill tell you²¹. You vas von meddingsome old cat!²²”

Miss Martha leaned weakly against the shelves and laid one hand on her blue silk dress. The young man took the other by the collar.

“Come on,” he said, “you’ve said enough.” He dragged the angry one out at the door to the sidewalk, and then came back.

“I want to explain,” he said, “That’sBlumberger²³. He’s an architectural draftsman²⁴. I work in the same office with him. He has worked hard for three months drawing a plan for a new city hall. It was a prize competition. He finished inking the lines²⁵ yesterday. You know, a draftsman always makes his drawing in pencil first. After that he inks the line. When it’s done he rubs out the pencil lines with stale bread. That’s better than India rubber²⁶.

Blumberger has bought the bread here. Well, today he tried to rub out the pencil lines of his plan with the bread he bought in your bakery… You know, ma’am, that butter isn’t good for paper. And well, Blumberger’s plan can now be used only as a paper for railroad sandwiches.”

Miss Martha went into the back room. She took off the blue silk dress and put on the old brown serge she was wearing before.