Balefanio: tmp0

"Good. I've got it."

A moment later, and the door opened.

"Well, Edward, you old house, how goes it?"

Franz took off his overcoat, coat and scarf. Then he went, as usual, to the glass and carefully parted his hair with a pocket comb. After this he poured water into the basin and washed his hands.

"How goes it?" Edward asked.

"Bad."

"Been having another quarrel with your step­father?"

Franz nodded, uttered a sudden animal sound like a laugh and performed three rapid handsprings on the back of the sofa.

"Wonderful," Edward mocked. He picked up a paper-knife from the table; asked:

"Can you do this?"

"No. How do you do it? Show me."

"It's quite simple."

"No. Show me. Do it again."

"What's that?" asked Edward, to change the subject, pointing to a long scar on Franz's arm.

"That was last May. At my sister's. The police broke one of our windows with machine-gun bullets."

"Are you a Communist, then?"

"No, of course not."

Franz laughed. Asked suddenly:

"You've got a scar, too."

Edward was rather startled. He didn't think it showed.

"How did you get that?"

"I shot myself."

"You mean, you had an accident?"

"No. On purpose."

"Where?"

"Here in Berlin."

"When?"

"Last winter."

"Why aren't you dead?"

"Because the German doctors are very clever. That's where they dug the bullet out."

Franz laughed. Edward smiled:

"Don't you believe me?"

"Of course I don't."

"Why not?"

"Why should you shoot yourself? You've got money."

His flickering attention moved about the room, fastened on the letters. He examined them with interest:

"Erich? Is that your friend in London?"

"Yes."

"And these are both written in English?"

"Yes."

"Read some of this one. I want to hear how it sounds."

Edward, faintly smiling, read aloud:

" 'In fact, I don't think she was at all seriously aggrieved. I remarked: You know what Edward is, and she agreed that we all knew what you were. You may be thankful, my dear, that we don't.' "

He paused, asked:

"Well, did you understand it?"

"A little."

"What?"

"There's a bit about something being expensive, isn't there? Doesn't 'dear' mean expensive?"

"Yes,"

"You see? I can understand English."

Franz smiled complacently, helped himself to a cigarette:

"No, but tell me, Edward. How did you really get that scar?"

"I've told you."

"No. But really. Wasn't it in the War?"

"Yes, if you like."

"You fought in the War?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill many Germans?"

"Quite a lot."

"Then I shall kill you," said Franz, catching Edward by the throat. But he became serious almost immediately:

"It must have been terrible."

"It was awful," said Edward.

"You know," said Franz, very serious and evidently repeating something he had heard said by his elders: "that War ... it ought never to have happened."