Голод
Part II
Whatdiditlookliketoseeajournalistinthenightguard-housewithoutaroofoverhishead?
"Onwhatpaper,HerrTangen?"
"Morgenbladet!"saidI."Ihavebeenoutalittletoolatethisevening,more’stheshame!"
"Oh,wewon’tmentionthat,"heinterrupted,withasmile;"whenyoungpeopleareout...weunderstand!"
Turningtoapoliceman,hesaid,asheroseandbowedpolitelytome,"Showthisgentlemanuptothereservedsection.Good-night!"
Ifelticerundownmybackatmyownboldness,andIclenchedmyhandstosteadymyselfabit.IfIonlyhadn’tdraggedintheMorgenbladet.IknewFrielecouldshowhisteethwhenheliked,andIwasremindedofthatbythegrindingofthekeyturninginthelock.
"Thegaswillburnfortenminutes,"remarkedthepolicemanatthedoor.
"Andthendoesitgoout?"
"Thenitgoesout!"
Isatonthebedandlistenedtotheturningofthekey.Thebrightcellhadafriendlyair;Ifeltcomfortablyandwellsheltered;andlistenedwithpleasuretotherainoutside—Icouldn’twishmyselfanythingbetterthansuchacosycell.Mycontentmentincreased.Sittingonthebed,hatinhand,andwitheyesfastenedonthegasjetoverinthewall,Igavemyselfuptothinkingovertheminutesofmyfirstinterviewwiththepolice.
