558
PARTISAN REVIEW
little porcine eyes and diffused itself over the features of the ram
seemed to veil a secret. The faces of dead men sometimes wear this
ironic light which seems to emanate from their closed eyelids, but
Grandgil's face, though it was a mask, at the same time managed to
suggest a candor that was positively indecent. Martin, ill at ease, tried
in vain to explain or to reconcile these contradictions. He tried to
imagine with the aid of his memories of the cellar what lawless deeps
lay behind the forehead of the ram, deeps seething with the spites and
the hungers of an outcast; but the man himself still escaped him, still
baffled him. He felt that there was something else there, something
unique, which lay quite outside the realm of his experience. Grandgil,
on his side, was observing Martin without a shadow of hostility, but
with a deliberate curiosity which seemed to attach itself as much to his
clothes and his hat with the rolled brim as to his physiognomy, and
this lively glance, which stopped nowhere, was extremely indiscreet.
"Drink fast," said the bartender, bringing in the mulled wine.
"This time, I'm closing. It's almost eleven o'clock."
The belote players had gotten up. Filing slowly before the coun–
ter, their glances went from the two drinkers to the four valises, about
which they exchanged whispered words. One of them screwed up his
courage, tried out one of the valises with the toe of his shoe, and
took it by the handle to see what it weighed.
"Take your paws off that," said Grandgil. "The things in that
bag are not for paupers."
Redfaced and humiliated, the man dropped the valise. The
others had stopped without knowing why.
"What are you waiting for?" said Grandgil. "You're half starved.
You've eaten sawdust pudding, drunk at the spigot, and smoked
cornsilk, and there is enough in that valise to feed you well for three
weeks. There are four of you, all plenty strong. What's to keep you
from making off with the valises? You know well enough that we
wouldn't report it."
Rather embarrassed than angry, the four remained silent and
stole glances toward the door.
"Get to hell out of here, you dirty paupers," went on Grandgil.
"Go out and howl against the black market."
He burst into a great laugh which showed most of his teeth,
and Martin was surprised to note, at the corners of his mouth, gold
