At the Villa of Reduced Circumstances by Alexander McCall Smith Page A

buttons to one side – and who amongst us has not at some time shed a button, Herr Unterholzer? There is no shame in doing so, in my view. But be that as it may, there was a development while you were away. I thought I might mention it to you.’
    Everybody looked at the Librarian, who for a few precious moments relished their evident anticipation. They could not interrupt him now.
    ‘I had a request a month or so ago from a foreign embassy,’ he said. ‘A very particular request.’
    The silence deepened. Unterholzer’s lips were pursed, and von Igelfeld noticed that his hands were trembling slightly.
    ‘Oh yes?’ said von Igelfeld encouragingly. ‘You alluded to something earlier on, Herr Huber. You have the details to hand now, I take it?’
    The Librarian nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’ He paused, but only for a moment. ‘The request came from the Colombian Embassy, in fact. They asked me for a copy of
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
, and I despatched one to them immediately. And . . . ’ Now the tension was almost unbearable. ‘And they asked me to provide a brief biographical note about yourself,
including any honours already
received
, and to confirm the correct spelling of your name.’
    The effect of these words was every bit as dramatic as the Librarian had anticipated. The information took a few moments to sink in, but when it had, all thoughts of buttons and such matters were replaced by a real and quite tangible sense of excitement. When all was said and done, what really mattered was the reputation of the Institute, and good news for one was good news for all. There may have been minor jealousies – and these were inevitable in philology – but when there was a whiff, even the merest whiff, of an honour from a foreign institution, then all such matters were swept aside. Now, in the face of this quite extraordinarily exciting news, the only thing that mattered was that they should find out, as soon as possible, what this development meant.
    Prinzel was the first to suggest an explanation. ‘I should imagine that it is an honorary degree from a Colombian university,’ he said. ‘There are some very prestigious institutions in Bogotá. The Rosario, for example, is very highly regarded in South America. It is a private university in Bogotá. I should think that is what it is. May I be the first to offer my congratulations, Herr von Igelfeld!’
    Von Igelfeld raised a hand in a gesture of modesty. ‘That could be quite premature, Herr Prinzel,’ he protested. ‘I cannot imagine that it will be an honour of any sort. I imagine that it is just for some small article in a government journal or newspaper. It will be no more than that.’
    ‘Nonsense,’ said the Librarian. ‘They could get that sort of information from a press-cuttings agency. They would not need a copy of the book for that.’
    ‘Herr Huber has a very good point,’ said Unterholzer. ‘There is more to this than meets the eye.’
    ‘Please!’ protested von Igelfeld. ‘I would not wish to tempt Providence. You are all most generous in your assumptions, but I think it would be a grave error to think any more of this. Please let us talk about other matters. The
Zeitschrift
, for example. How is work progressing on the next issue? Have we sent everything off to the printer yet?’
    His suggestion that they should think no more of this mysterious approach from the Colombian Embassy was, of course, not advice that he could himself follow. Over the next week, he thought of nothing else, flicking through each delivery of post to see whether there was a letter from Colombia or something that looked as if it came from the Colombian Embassy. And as for Prinzel and Unterholzer, they had several private meetings in which they discussed the situation at length, speculating as to whether they had missed any possible interpretation of the Embassy’s request. They thought they had not. They had covered every possibility, and all of them looked