himself, if I'm not much mistaken."
"Quite right, Herr Nussbaum in person. Have you had dealings with the firm?"
"Of course, they're one of our oldest customers. They export mainly to the Balkan States and the Levant. Herr Adolf Nussbaum is a very quick-tempered gentleman. He threatens to sue at the drop of a hat."
"Good," said the managing director. "I can see you won't take long to get back into the swing. About that advance: apply to Herr Weber in Personnel, as I said - tell him to submit the cash voucher for my signature. Oh yes, and while you're here, take this folder and drop it in at the forwarding department on your way out."
Kohout had volunteered to obtain the passport and visas required for the journey. He felt quite competent to undertake this far from easy task because he had seen and learnt a great deal during his two weeks in Dr Sigismund Eichkatz's law office, where he had been engaged as a kind of confidential clerk.
Dr Eichkatz owed his brisk flow of business to a capacity for observing and, at the same time, circumventing the laws and ordinances that hampered his clients' entrepreneurial activ-ites. He respected those laws because, having been devised by the human brain, they betrayed their provenance all too clearly in their flaws and imperfections, and he despised them because they clothed themselves in an aura of infallibility. He never permitted himself to infringe them because he knew that their rigid immutability was no match for a nimble mind. They crushed the fools who broke them and gave free rein to the sagacious souls who paid them the respect they demanded.
Dr Eichkatz was an expert in the outflanking manoeuvres peculiar to guerrilla warfare. His name was uttered with reverence in certain quarters of Vienna, and his address circulated in the coffee-houses where dealers traded in jute, cattle, barley, or artificial silk. In October 1918, when it became clear that his office staff, which comprised a typist and a receptionist, was no longer equal to the demands of his expanding practice, Dr Eichkatz augmented it by one. Kohout, with whom he had become acquainted in the billiard room of the Café Élite, was employed to keep the filing system up to date and rake in outstanding fees from tardy payers.
Vit¬torin, having telephoned his friend to expect him, was greeted with the long-suffering air of a man whose shoulders bore the full brunt of a responsible job.
"You'll have to wait awhile," Kohout told him. "I've got to deal with the people in the waiting-room first. Sit down and listen for a bit — it's quite entertaining sometimes. I'll be through in half an hour, then we can discuss things in peace. The boss won't disturb us if I tell him I've got a visitor." He broke off. "Fräulein Gusti, that's the Doctor's bell. He wants you!"
The typist scurried into the inner office, only to reappear a moment later.
"Herr Kohout, quick, the Spannagel file!"
Dr Eichkatz's irritable voice, resonant as a pipe-organ, came drifting through the open door.
"You expect too much of me, Herr Spannagel. I'm a lawyer, not a prophet. I've no idea how your case will turn out. If I were a clairvoyant I wouldn't practise law, I'd go on the stage with you, Herr Spannagel."
"For heaven's sake shut the door, Herr Kohout," Fräulein Gusti called from her typewriter. "He's playing the fool again today."
Kohout shut the door of the inner office and turned to Vit¬torin.
"It's like that all the time here. I'm not going to be able to stand it for long, believe me. I mean, did you see those people outside in the waiting-room? Some clients, eh? What faces! If you sentenced them all to three years' hard labour you wouldn't be doing them an injustice. All right, here we go. Fräulein Gusti, give that typewriter a bit of a rest, would you? I can't hear myself speak."
He extracted a folder from the stack of files on his desk and raised his voice in a stentorian bellow.
"Herr Jonas Eiermann, if you please!"
Out of the
"Quite right, Herr Nussbaum in person. Have you had dealings with the firm?"
"Of course, they're one of our oldest customers. They export mainly to the Balkan States and the Levant. Herr Adolf Nussbaum is a very quick-tempered gentleman. He threatens to sue at the drop of a hat."
"Good," said the managing director. "I can see you won't take long to get back into the swing. About that advance: apply to Herr Weber in Personnel, as I said - tell him to submit the cash voucher for my signature. Oh yes, and while you're here, take this folder and drop it in at the forwarding department on your way out."
Kohout had volunteered to obtain the passport and visas required for the journey. He felt quite competent to undertake this far from easy task because he had seen and learnt a great deal during his two weeks in Dr Sigismund Eichkatz's law office, where he had been engaged as a kind of confidential clerk.
Dr Eichkatz owed his brisk flow of business to a capacity for observing and, at the same time, circumventing the laws and ordinances that hampered his clients' entrepreneurial activ-ites. He respected those laws because, having been devised by the human brain, they betrayed their provenance all too clearly in their flaws and imperfections, and he despised them because they clothed themselves in an aura of infallibility. He never permitted himself to infringe them because he knew that their rigid immutability was no match for a nimble mind. They crushed the fools who broke them and gave free rein to the sagacious souls who paid them the respect they demanded.
Dr Eichkatz was an expert in the outflanking manoeuvres peculiar to guerrilla warfare. His name was uttered with reverence in certain quarters of Vienna, and his address circulated in the coffee-houses where dealers traded in jute, cattle, barley, or artificial silk. In October 1918, when it became clear that his office staff, which comprised a typist and a receptionist, was no longer equal to the demands of his expanding practice, Dr Eichkatz augmented it by one. Kohout, with whom he had become acquainted in the billiard room of the Café Élite, was employed to keep the filing system up to date and rake in outstanding fees from tardy payers.
Vit¬torin, having telephoned his friend to expect him, was greeted with the long-suffering air of a man whose shoulders bore the full brunt of a responsible job.
"You'll have to wait awhile," Kohout told him. "I've got to deal with the people in the waiting-room first. Sit down and listen for a bit — it's quite entertaining sometimes. I'll be through in half an hour, then we can discuss things in peace. The boss won't disturb us if I tell him I've got a visitor." He broke off. "Fräulein Gusti, that's the Doctor's bell. He wants you!"
The typist scurried into the inner office, only to reappear a moment later.
"Herr Kohout, quick, the Spannagel file!"
Dr Eichkatz's irritable voice, resonant as a pipe-organ, came drifting through the open door.
"You expect too much of me, Herr Spannagel. I'm a lawyer, not a prophet. I've no idea how your case will turn out. If I were a clairvoyant I wouldn't practise law, I'd go on the stage with you, Herr Spannagel."
"For heaven's sake shut the door, Herr Kohout," Fräulein Gusti called from her typewriter. "He's playing the fool again today."
Kohout shut the door of the inner office and turned to Vit¬torin.
"It's like that all the time here. I'm not going to be able to stand it for long, believe me. I mean, did you see those people outside in the waiting-room? Some clients, eh? What faces! If you sentenced them all to three years' hard labour you wouldn't be doing them an injustice. All right, here we go. Fräulein Gusti, give that typewriter a bit of a rest, would you? I can't hear myself speak."
He extracted a folder from the stack of files on his desk and raised his voice in a stentorian bellow.
"Herr Jonas Eiermann, if you please!"
Out of the
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