Mr. Norris sank back against the hard wooden seat with a deep sigh. For a moment he seemed incapable of speech. Taking out a big white silk handkerchief, he began to dab at his forehead, being careful not to disarrange his wig.
“I wonder if you’d be so very kind as to open the window,” he said at length, in a faint voice. “It seems to have got dreadfully stuffy in here all of a sudden.”
I hastened to do so.
“Is there anything I can fetch you?” I asked. “A glass of water?”
He feebly waved the offer aside. “Most good of you … No. I shall be all right in a moment. My heart isn’t quite what it was.” He sighed: “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing. All this travelling … very bad for me.”
“You know, you really shouldn’t upset yourself so.” I felt
8
more than ever protective towards him at that moment. This affectionate protectiveness, which he so easily and dangerously inspired in me, was to colour all our future dealings. “You let yourself be annoyed by trifles.”
“You call that a trifle!” he exclaimed, in rather pathetic protest.
“Of course. It was bound to have been put right in a few minutes, anyhow. The man simply mistook you for somebody else of the same name.”
“You really think so?” He was childishly eager to be reassured.
“What other possible explanation is there?”
Mr. Norris didn’t seem so certain of this. He said dubiously: “Wellernone, I suppose.”
“Besides, it often happens, you know. The most innocent people get mistaken for famous jewel thieves. They undress them and search them all over. Fancy if they’d done that to you!”
“Really!” Mr. Norris giggled. “The mere thought brings a blush to my modest cheek.”
We both laughed. I was glad that I had managed to cheer him up so successfully. But what on earth, I wondered, would happen when the customs examiner arrived? For this, if I was right about the smuggled presents, was the real cause of all his nervousness. If the little misunderstanding about the passport had upset him so much, the customs officer would most certainly give him a heart attack. I wondered if I hadn’t better mention this straight out and offer to hide the things in my own suitcase; but he seemed so blissfully unconscious of any approaching trouble that I hadn’t the heart to disturb him.
I was quite wrong. The customs examination, when it came, seemed positively to give Norris pleasure. He showed not the slightest signs of uneasiness; nor was anything dutiable discovered in his luggage. In fluent German he laughed and joked with the official over a large bottle of Coty perfume: “Oh, yes, it’s for my personal use, I can assure you. I wouldn’t
part with it for the world. Do let me give you a drop on your handkerchief. It’s so deliciously refreshing.”
At length it was all over. The train clanked slowly forward into Germany. The dining-car attendant came down the corridor, sounding his little gong.
“And now, my dear boy,” said Mr. Norris, “after these alarms and excursions and your most valuable moral support, for which I’m more grateful than I can tell you, I hope you’ll do me the honour of being my guest at lunch.”
I thanked him and said that I should be delighted.
When we were seated comfortably in the restaurant-car, Mr. Norris ordered a small cognac:
“I have made it a general rule never to drink before meals, but there are times when the occasion seems to demand it.”
The soup was served. He took one spoonful, then called the attendant and addressed him in a tone of mild reproach.
“Surely you’ll agree that there’s too much onion?” he asked anxiously. “Will you do me a personal favour? I should like you to taste it for yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” said the attendant, who was extremely busy, and whisked away the plate with faintly insolent deference. Mr. Norris was pained.
“Did you see that? He wouldn’t taste it. He wouldn’t admit there was anything wrong. Dear me, how very obstinate some people are!”
He forgot this little disappointment in human nature within a few moments, however. He had begun to study the wine list with great care.
“Let me see … Let me see … Would you be prepared to contemplate a hock? You would? It’s a lottery, mind you. On a train one must always be prepared for the worst. I think we’ll risk it, shall we?”
The hock arrived and was a success. Mr. Norris had not tasted such good hock, he told me, since his lunch with the Swedish Ambassador in Vienna last year. And there were kidneys, his favourite dish. “Dear me,” he remarked with pleasure, “I find I’ve got quite an appetite. … If you want
10
to get kidneys perfectly cooked you should go to Budapest. It was a revelation to me. … I must say these are really delicious, don’t you agree? Really quite delicious. At first I thought I tasted that odious red pepper, but it was merely my overwrought imagination.” He called the attendant: “Will you please give the chef my compliments and say that I should like to congratulate him on a most excellent lunch? Thank you. And now bring me a cigar.” Cigars were brought, sniffed at, weighed between the finger and thumb. Mr. Nor-ris finally selected the largest on the tray: “What, my dear boy, you don’t smoke them? Oh, but you should. Well, well, perhaps you have other vices?”
By this time he was in the best of spirits.
“I must say the older I get the more I come to value the little comforts of this life. As a general rule, I make a point of travelling first class. It always pays. One gets treated with so much more consideration. Take to-day, for instance. If I hadn’t been in a third-class compartment, they’d never have dreamed of bothering me. There you have the German official all over. ‘A race of non-commissioned officers,’ didn’t somebody call them? How very good that is! How true… .”
Mr. Norris picked his teeth for a few moments in thoughtful silence.
“My generation was brought up to regard luxury from an sthetic standpoint. Since the War, people don’t seem to feel that any more. Too often they are merely gross. They take their pleasures coarsely, don’t you find? At times, one feels guilty, oneself, with so much unemployment and distress everywhere. The conditions in Berlin are very bad. Oh, very bad … as no doubt you yourself know. In my small way, I do what I can to help, but it’s such a drop in the ocean.” Mr. Norris sighed and touched his napkin with his lips.
“And here we are, riding in the lap of luxury. The social reformers would condemn us, no doubt. All the same, I suppose if somebody didn’t use this dining-car, we should have all these employees on the dole as well… . Dear me, dear me. Things are so very complex, nowadays.”
11
We parted at the Zoo Station. Mr. Norris held my hand for a long time amidst the jostle of arriving passengers.
“Auf Wiedersehen, my dear boy. Auf Wiedersehen. I won’t say goodbye because I hope that we shall be seeing each other in the very near future. Any little discomforts I may have suffered on that odious journey have been amply repaid by the great pleasure of making your acquaintance. And now I wonder if you’d care to have tea with me at my flat one day this week? Shall we make it Saturday? Here’s my card. Do please say you’ll come.”
I promised that I would.
CHAPTER TWO
Mr. Norris had two front doors to his flat. They stood side by side. Both had little round peep-holes in the centre panel and brightly polished knobs and brass nameplates. On the left-hand plate was engraved: Arthur Norris. Private. And on the right-hand : Arthur Norris. Export and Import.
After a moment’s hesitation, I pressed the button of the left-hand bell. The bell was startlingly loud; it must have been clearly audible all over the flat. Nevertheless, nothing happened. No sound came from within. I was just about to ring again when I became aware that an eye was regarding me through the peep-hole in the door. How long it had been there, I didn’t know. I felt embarrassed and uncertain whether to stare the eye out of its hole or merely pretend that I hadn’t seen it. Ostentatiously, I examined the ceiling, the floor, the walls; then ventured a furtive glance to make sure that it had gone. It hadn’t. Vexed, I turned my back on the door altogether. Nearly a minute passed.