Голод
Part II
Theofficerondutyrepeatedconstantlytothepolicemanathisside,"Didhegetaticket?Don’tforgettogivethemtickets;theylookasiftheywantedameal!"
AndIstoodandlookedatthesetickets,andwishedIhadone.
"AndreasTangen—journalist."
Iadvancedandbowed.
"But,mydearfellow,howdidyoucomehere?"
Iexplainedthewholestateofthecase,repeatedthesamestoryaslastnight,liedwithoutwinking,liedwithfrankness—hadbeenoutratherlate,worseluck...café...lostdoor-key....
"Yes,"hesaid,andhesmiled;"that’stheway!Didyousleepwellthen?"
Ianswered,"LikeaCabinetMinister—likeaCabinetMinister!"
"Iamgladtohearit,"hesaid,andhestoodup."Good-morning."
AndIwent!
Aticket!aticketformetoo!Ihavenoteatenformorethanthreelongdaysandnights.Aloaf!Butnooneofferedmeaticket,andIdarednotdemandone.Itwouldhaverousedsuspicionatonce.Theywouldbegintopoketheirnosesintomyprivateaffairs,anddiscoverwhoIreallywas;theymightarrestmeforfalsepretences;andso,withelevatedhead,thecarriageofamillionaire,andhandsthrustundermycoat-tails,Istrideoutoftheguard-house.
Thesunshonewarmly,earlyasitwas.Itwasteno’clock,andthetrafficinYoung’sMarketwasinfullswing.
