Supper was nearly over. A number of guests had already left the dining room. Those who were lingering on at their tables picked their teeth and nursed their glasses of tea. At one of the tables every seat was still occupied. A man in a skullcap sat at the head of it. The seven or eight other men at that table were silently listening to him, occasionally dipping a spoon into their stewed fruit without looking at it, slowly sucking and rolling the prune pits on their tongues. It was not the food they enjoyed, but the presence of the man in the skullcap. Never for a moment did they take their eyes off him. “Come here. Give us your opinion.” The man who was speaking caught the arm of the proprietor, who was just going by. The latter was very thin and nervous, and seemed always to be sniffing at something with his long nose. He kept a sharp eye on the room, watching the faces of his guests for the least sign of displeasure. To follow him darting about the dining room was positively dizzying.
