8
PARTISAN REVIEW
suspicious shop."
In the morning one sometimes saw a very old man in a gray
overcoat sweeping away the snow
in
the courtyard; and when
another old man, in an astrakhan cap, a black portfolio under his
arm, passed by hastily, with his jerky gait, the two old men would
exchange a long angry look. The Secret Councillor did not forgive
the True Councillor of the State for having entered the service of
"these bandits" in an office governed by a positively illiterate
brute. They would also meet at the communal store where both of
them went for their bread ration. The Secret Councillor, classed
in the 4th category (non-workers) would slowly wrap his 50 grams
of black bread
in
a cloth that looked like a dirty handkerchief; he
would wait until the other, that affected scoundrel in the 3rd cate–
gory (intellectual workers), had received his ration, twice as much
as his own, to let him see, from his sneer-which he imagined full
of irony, with what contempt this reward for treason inspired him;
but his ugly toothless grin, although it was intended to express
scorn, did not at all alter the woeful expression on his jowled face,
and the look which he cast on the True Councillor's ration was full,
not of severity, but of dull animal covetousness.
Punctually at nine o'clock, the True Councillor of State
presented himself . • . ah! what a staff! • . . to the district super–
intendent. He found no one there except the old woman who
cleaned the offices. The staff always arrived late, and the head of
the department later than anyone else. When he had looked through
the newspapers, with deep sighs, the True Councillor opened his
folders:
Municipal Properties Buildings for Demolition (Wood
for Fuel)
...
Towards noon, the chief, a blond, thickset fellow,
with a rough peasant face, had tea, brewed from carrot parings,
brought him, and signed the papers. Since he could puzzle out
handwriting only with the greatest difficulty-and all wrong, at
that-they had to read aloud to him the suggestions written in red
ink on the margins of the typewritten reports. He rarely disap–
proved, then no doubt only when paid to do so. Almost always, he
signed with an appearance of dissatisfaction.
"House in good condition," the True Councillor said quietly,
standing, full of deference, beside the directorial armchair. "Lodg–
ing for twelve persons. To be tom down in pursuance of the order."
"I do my duty," he would sometimes say in the evening to his
