THE GREEN KING (part 46)
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The Photographer
from Salzburg
Reb Klimrod’’s
face, as well as his whole manner, had changed incredibly. He seemed younger
than his age, more fragile and exhausted then was possible. His eyes widened
frantically.
‘I was hungry
and I got lost,’ he answered, with the whining voice of a child overcome by
events. And terrified.
David Settiniaz
received the phone call in place of Tarras who had gone out, as he said, ‘to
scour the country.’ The call must, of course, be from some military authority,
because public telephones had not yet been fully restored in Austria. The man
on the phone emitted an incomprehensible gibberish which was supposedly
English.
Settiniaz
identified the accent and said: ‘You can speak French, sir.’ He explained who
was and in what way he was capable of replacing Captain Tarras in almost all
respects. Then he was quite, listening with growing stupefaction to what the
French occupying troops’ officer was telling him, from Salzburg. In fact, the
hardly took the time to think, but, in a move that was to have not a small
effect on his life, told the first big lie of his career.
‘Don’t believe
it,’ he said. ‘The boy is older and much more experienced than he looks. You
can trust him completely. He work for the OSS, and he is one of their best
agents. Do exactly as he tells you, please.’
Only after
hanging up did he ask himself the truly important questions, about what had led
him to commit this foolish act, about he was going to tell Tarras in order to
justifiey the great lie, and about this extraordinary, and dangerous, situation
in which young Klimrod had put himself.
TO BE CONTINUED
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I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
I LOVE YOU…
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