Читать книгу An Affair of State онлайн

31 страница из 86

Dannenberg inspected Jeff, shrewdly as a horseman looks over a yearling at the Saratoga sales. "You do look American. You've got that gaunt, mussed-up Winant look."

"Thanks," Jeff said. "I'd like to be like Winant."

"But nobody can tell yet if you've got any brains."

"No," Jeff said. "That's the trouble."

Mr. Dannenberg himself didn't look like an FSO, or even particularly American. An expensive tailor could have given his stumpy figure and global belly some nobility, but Mr. Dannenberg obviously didn't have an expensive tailor. His trousers fell in double folds around his shoes, and the three lower buttons of his vest were usually open. His ties were cheap, and badly knotted. Jeff looked up Mr. Dannenberg's record, and discovered that while he was a Class 1 he had never held an important, or even an interesting post. Yet he liked Dannenberg, who always seemed eager to open for him the treasure chest of his experience.

One day Dannenberg called him and told him his oral was scheduled for Monday of the following week. "Dress carefully," he advised, "and better not drink Sunday night, and don't cut yourself shaving, and by all means be on time."