Darling Adolf

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They were waiting for him to come out. He was sitting inside the little Bavarian cafe with a view of the mountains, drinking beer, and he had been in there since noon and it was now two-thirty, a long lunch, and much beer, and they could see by the way he held his head and laughed and lifted one more stein with the suds fluffing in the spring breeze that he was in a grand humour now, and at the table with him the two other men were doing their best to keep up, but bad fallen long behind.

On occasion their voices drifted on the wind, and then the small crowd waiting out in the parking lot leaned to hear. What was he saying? and now what?

«He just said the shooting was going well.»

«What, where?!»

«Fool. The film, the film is shooting well.»

«Is that the director sitting with him?»

«Yes. And the other unhappy one is the producer.»

«He doesn't look like a producer.»

«No wonder! He's had his nose changed.»

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