392
,.AR T ISA N REVIEW
Tamkin had gone to lunch alone, and here was Wilhelm, back again,
breathless, his hat dripping, needlessly asking the manager if he remem–
bered.
"Yes, sir, I know," the manager had said. He was a cold, mild,
lean German who dressed correctly and around his neck wore a pair
of opera glasses with which he read the board. He was an extremely
correct person except that he never shaved in the morning, not caring,
probably, how he looked to the fumblers and the old people and the
operators and the gamblers and the idlers of Broadway uptown. The
Market closed at three-thirty. Maybe, Wilhelm guessed, he had a thick
beard and took a lady out to dinner later and wanted to look fresh–
shaven.
"Just a question," said Wilhelm. "A few minutes ago I signed a
power-of-attorney so Dr. T amkin could invest for me. You gave me the
blanks."
"Yes, sir, I remember."
"Now this is what I want to know," Wilhelm had said. "I'm no
lawyer and I only gave the paper a glance. Does this give Dr. Tamkin
power-oE-attorney over any other assets of mine-money, or property?"
The rain had dribbled from Wilhelm's deformed transparent
raincoat ; the buttons of his shirt, which always seemed tiny, were
partly broken,
in
pearly quarters of the moon, and some of the dark,
thick golden hairs that grew on his belly stood out. It was the manager's
business to conceal his opinion of him; he was shrewd, gray, correct
(although unshaven) and had little to say except on matters that came
to his desk. He must have recognized in Wilhelm a man who reflected
long and then made the decision he had rejected twenty sepa rate time5.
Silvery, cool, level, long-profiled, experienced, indifferent, observant,
with unshaven refinement, he scarcely looked at Wilhelm, who trembled
with fearful awkwardness. The manager's face, low-colored, long-nos–
tri1ed, acted as a unit of perception; his eyes merely did their reduced
share. Here was a man, like Rubin, who knew and knew and knew.
He, a foreigner, knew; Wilhelm, in the city of his birth, was ignorant.
The manager had said, "No, sir, it does not give him."
"Only over the funds I deposited with you?"
"Yes, that is right, sir."
"Thank you, that's what I wanted to find out," Wilhelm had said,
grateful.
The answer comforted him. However, the question had no value.
None at all. For Wilhelm had no other assets. He had given Tamkin his
last money. There wasn't enough of it to cover his obligations anyway,
and Wilhelm had reckoned that he might as well go bankrupt now as
next month. "Either broke or rich," was how he had figured, and en–
couraged himself to try the gamble. Well, not rich; he did not expect
that, but perhaps T amkin might really show him how to earn what he
needed in the market.
By now, however, he had forgotten his own reckoning and was aware
only that he
~t99d
to lose his seven hundred dollars to the last cent.
