The Black Obelisk by Erich Maria Remarque Page A

the shadows of St. Mary's to Hacken-strasse. In front of us paces a lonely wanderer with a storklike gait. He turns in at our gateway. It is Sergeant Major Knopf, just returning from his tour of inspection of the inns. We follow him and catch up just as he is urinating against the black obelisk beside the door. "Herr Knopf," I say, "that's improper conduct!"
    "At ease," Knopf mutters, without turning his head.
    "Sergeant Major," I repeat, "that's improper conduct! It's disgusting! Why don't you do it in your own house?"
    He turns his head briefly. "You want me to piss in my parlor? Are you crazy?"
    "Not in your parlor! You have a perfectly good toilet in your house. Use it! It's only about ten yards from here."
    "Drivel!" Knopf replies.
    "You're soiling the trade-mark of our firm. Besides, you're committing sacrilege. That's a tombstone. A holy object."
    "Not till it's put in the cemetery," Knopf says and stalks off to the door of his house. "Good night to all of you, gentlemen."
    He makes a half-bow at random, striking his forehead against the doorpost. Growling, he disappears. "Who was that?" Riesenfeld asks me, while I look for the coffee.
    "Your opposite. An abstract drinker. He drinks without imagination. He needs no help at all from outside. No wishful fantasies."
    "That's something too!" Riesenfeld takes his place at the window. "Just a hogshead for alcohol then. Man lives by dreams. Haven't you found that out yet?"
    "No. I'm too young."
    "You're not too young. You're just a product of the war— emotionally immature and with too much experience in murder."
    " Merci ,"   I say. "How's the coffee?"
    Apparently the fumes have cleared. We are now back to formal terms of address. "Do you think the lady over there is already home?" Riesenfeld asks Georg.
    "Probably. It's all dark."
    "That could be because she hasn't come back yet. We can wait a few minutes, can't we?"
    "Of course."
    "Perhaps we can get our business out of the way in the meantime," I say. "All that's needed is a signature to the contract. Meanwhile I'll get some fresh coffee from the kitchen."
    I go out, giving Georg time to work on Riesenfeld. This sort of thing goes better without witnesses. I sit down on the steps outside. From Wilke's carpenter shop come peaceful snores. Heinrich Kroll must still be there, for Wilke lives elsewhere. The national businessman will get a fine shock when he wakes up in a coffin. I debate whether to wake him up, but I'm too tired and it's already getting light—let the shock serve that fearless warrior as an icy bath to strengthen him and reveal to him the end result and aim of any war. I look at my watch, waiting for Georg's signal, and then stare into the garden. Morning is rising silently from the blossoming trees as though from a soft bed. In the lighted second-story window of the house opposite stands Sergeant Major Knopf in his nightgown taking a last gulp from the bottle. The cat rubs against my legs. Thank God, I say to myself, Sunday is over.

Chapter Five
    5.
    A woman in mourning slips unobstrusively through the gate and stands irresolute in the courtyard. I go out. Someone shopping for a small tombstone, I think, and ask: "Would you like to look at our exhibition?"
    She nods, but then says immediately: "No, no, that's not really necessary."
    "You can look around at leisure. You don't have to buy. If you like I'll leave you alone."
    "No, no! It's just—I simply wanted—"
    I wait. Pressure has no place in our business. After a while the woman says: "It's for my husband—"
    I nod and continue to wait. At the same time I turn toward the row of little Belgian headstones. "These are very much in demand," I say finally.
    "Yes—It's just that—"
    She breaks off again and looks at me almost beseechingly. "I don't know whether it's permissible—" she finally forces herself to say.
    "What, to put up a tombstone? Who could possibly forbid that?"
    "The grave is not in the churchyard—"
    I look at her in surprise. "Our