The Exiles Return by Elisabeth de Waal Page A

to recognise them? Did you expect me to do so? Do you mean that I must have seen them before, somewhere else?’
    ‘No, no, of course not, it’s most unlikely you would have seen them – or remembered them if you had. They are in no way outstanding or really valuable – a minor nineteenth century artist. I just thought they furnished the room, gave it a certain cachet, within the limits of what I could afford. They did in fact belong to a gentleman who was surely an acquaintance of your family, Baron E—. You might possibly have seen them at his house. Baron E— unfortunately died abroad, in England, I believe. His heirs, after they had recovered what could be traced of his property, had it all sold at auction; having no use for this old-fashioned stuff in their modern homes, I suppose. I acquired the pictures in the auction rooms, as well as most of the things you see here. All quite openly, publicly and legally, you understand. There is no great demand for this period,’ he added deprecatingly, ‘and there is so much of it about. But the material is magnificent and it suits my purpose.’
    ‘There is no need to apologise, Herr Doktor,’ Kanakis said, smiling broadly. ‘I can only congratulate you on your bargains.’
    Traumüller opened his mouth: I didn’t apologise, he was going to say. How dare he insult me with such an insinuation! But he shut it again promptly. From a very rich man many things have to be accepted.
    And Kanakis, sensing and enjoying this suppressed exclamation of protest, continued soothingly: ‘You have most sensibly done what many, quite illustrious people have done before you: taken advantage of the reversals of fortune, shall we say, that have befallen some people of substance during recent historical events – you have purchased judiciously, and to suit your requirements. Who could possibly blame you for that? As I said, you could invoke noble precedents. Do you know that in the French Revolution, even during the Reign of Terror, the heads of several great English houses sent their agents over to Paris to acquire some fine pieces of craftsmanship for which their owners, sadly, had no further use? Most of the beautiful French furniture in England dates from those timely forays. At least it went where it was appreciated – as the contents of this room are appreciated by you, Herr Doktor.’ Kanakis inclined his head towards Traumüller, as if making a little bow. ‘Personally, I am not interested in the ponderous riches of our late bourgeoisie. My tastes, Herr Doktor, are rather narrowly defined – the eighteenth century, Maria Theresa you would say here in Vienna, and a little before and after, the Louis Quinze and Louis Seize in France. I’m afraid this taste is very widely shared, there is much demand for that period and prices are high. But I am glad to say that I can compete. There are certain advantages in being able to compete, Herr Doktor, because it means that one can usually, if not always, obtain what one likes.’
    ‘I am not an art dealer, Herr von Kanakis, or an antique dealer. Though I could recommend you elsewhere, if that is what you want.’
    ‘Don’t be disappointed, Herr Doktor, that is not what I want from you, though later on I shall be glad to accept your offer of such introductions. No, before these become desirable, I want something which you, and I believe only you, can find for me. I remember having heard about a little gem of an eighteenth century pavilion, derelict and possibly in ruins, but still recognisable for what it once was, somewhere in one of the districts just outside the Ring. While I have been sitting here, I have remembered that it might have been your father talking about it to my father, perhaps suggesting that it was worth salvaging and might fetch a good price from an amateur. But my father was not interested, it was not his kind of thing, as you will understand if you have any memory of my father. He wanted peace and quiet – and