The Green Face Read Online Free PDF

and minute of birth were the sole deciding
factors, how could it be that the Blaschek sisters, siamese twins
who were born at the very same minute, could have had such
different destinies, the one becoming a mother, the other
remaining a virgin?’

    A man in a white flannel suit, red tie and Panama hat set at
a jaunty angle, his fingers laden with showy rings and a monocle
stuck in his dark eye had appeared behind the cover of a Hungarian newspaper at one of the more distant tables some time
ago and, by changing his place several times, as if he were
bothered by the draught, had inched his way closer to Hauberrisser, although the latter had been too deep in thought to notice.
    Only when the other addressed the waiter in an overloud
voice, asking for information on places of entertainment and
other local sights, did Hauberrisser become aware of him, and
the intrusion of the outside world sent his profound reflections
scuttling back into the darkness whence they came.
    A quick glance told him that it was `Professor’ Arpad Zitter
from the Hall of Riddles who was so desperately trying to play
the innocent who had just got off the train.
    His moustache was missing and his hair-oil had been diverted
into different channels, but that had not detracted anything from
the characteristic features of a Bratislavan `pigeon-fancier’ on
the look-out for his prey.
    Hauberrisser had been much too well brought up to give even
the slightest sign that he knew who the person opposite him was.
It amused him, moreover, to match the subtler wiles of the
gentleman against the crude tricks of the vulgar, who always
assume a disguise is successful simply because their intended
dupe does not immediately underline his suspicion with much
furrowing of the brow and rubbing of the chin.
    Hauberrisser did not doubt for one moment that the ‘Professor’ had followed him to the caf6 with some Balkan villainy in
mind. In order, however, to satisfy himself thathe was the object
of this pantomime, he made as if to pay and leave. Immediately
a cloud of irritation crossed Master Zitter’s face.

    Hauberriser allowed himself an inward smile of satisfaction;
“Hmm. Chidher Green and Co. - assuming the `Professor’ is an
active partner- seems to have various means of keeping tabs on
their customers: scented ladies with page-boy hair, flying corks,
ghostly old Jews and incompetent spies in white suits. Quite an
organisation!”
    “There must be a bank somewhere near here where one can
change a couple of English thousand-pound notes into guilders,
surely?” the Professor asked the waiter in a casual tone, but once
more in a very loud voice. He made a great display of irritation
at the waiter’s shake of the head. “Seems to be some problem
with the petty cashhere in Amsterdam”, was his opening gambit
as he half tamed towards Hauberrisser. “I had the same difficulty back at the chotel.”
    Hauberrisser said nothing.
    “Yes, hm, chreat deefficulty.”
    Hauberrisser did not allow himself to be drawn.
    “Fortunately the chotel owner knew the old family seat.
Allow me to introduce myself: Ciechonski; Count Wlodimierz
Ciechonski.”
    Hauberrisser sketched a bow and mumbled his name as
incomprehensibly as possible, but the Count seemed to have an
uncommonly sharp ear, for he jumped up in excitement, rushed
across to the table and sat in the seat Neill had just vacated with
a delighted cry of, “Chauberrisser? Not Chauberrisser the
celebrated torpedo constructor? The name is Ciechonski, Count
Wlodimierz Ciechonski. May I?”
    Hauberrisser shook his head with a smile. “You are mistaken.
I was never a torpedo constructor.” (‘A silly performance’, he
added silently to himself; ‘pity he insists on trying to act the
Polish count; I would have preferred Professor Arpad Zitter
from Bratislava; at least then I would have been able to quiz him
about his partner, Chidher Green.’)
    “No? Pity? But no