ALFRED LICHTENSTEIN
473
were etched into the pale, sleeping houses like black panes with bright
crosses. The conglomeration of houses resembled large, venturesome shi ps,
which lay at anchor or were gliding to a distant, beckoning sea. The little
locksmith thought about the last six women he had loved. His attention
was attracted by the hideously ringed eyes of a horribly hunchbacked gen–
tleman who smilingly, with marked pleasure, although somewhat fearfully,
was looking at him. The locksmith thought, hm-for fun, he remained
stopped; with his clear eyes, which shone like polished black buttons on
his face, he slyly watched the even smaller gentleman. Embarrassed, he
took his hat off his head and spoke, stuttering; said that his name was Kuno
Kohn, and excused himself-little else could be made out. The hunchback
hid part of his face behind thin fingers, coughed, and quickly moved on.
The locksm.ith thought,
11m,
and went on his way.
Then there was a tug on his arm. He turned his face: the hunchback
again stood next to him, still somewhat breathless from moving quickly.
Kuno Kohn was very red, but he could, without stuttering, say, "Excuse
me for causing you more trouble. I always know afterwards what I want to
say." This he said extremely loudly, to overcome his embarrassment. Then
he said: "Perhaps you have the time...perhaps I may invite you to look for
a restaurant with me. ..or may I assume that you have not yet eaten this
evening." The locksmith was not against the idea.
In a huge tavern, Kuno Kohn ordered food and beer for Max Mechenmal.
He himself did not eat, and he drank little. He enjoyed watching how pleased
the locksmith was. Later, probably, he sometimes stroked him timidly on the
chin. That pleased the locksmith. At first they spoke of the misery of being
alive, of the injustice of fate. After Mechenmal
drank
his third glass of beer, he
boasted of his beloved. That was unpleasant for the hunchback. Up to that
point he had permitted the locksmith to talk. And his interest was indicated
only by the fact that he shut his blue eyes theatrically and approvingly, as a
result of which, for a few seconds, only miserable shadows were visible, or he
slowly shook his shapeless head, or he pressed his nervous fingers sympatheti–
cally against Mechenmal's leg. Now he began to express his own opinions. He
cursed women. His voice seemed at every moment to crack with excitement.
He contended that whoever had the misfortune to be a woman must have the
courage to be a whore, that the whore is the essential woman, and that rela–
tions wi th women, incidentally, are more or less degrading. When they left the
tavern, Kuno Kohn placed the hard, miserable bone that was his lower arm
upon Mechenmal's thick, flabby lower arm. A gold bracelet struck the hunch–
back's wrist. On the way Kuno Kohn asked Mechenmal to spend the night at
his place. The locksm.ith agreed to the request.
Kuno Kohn lived in a large, ordinary room, in a summer house on a
side street in the western section. However, the bed was exceptionally
