Страница 15 из 31
Other than picking up objects from the street, Stillman seemed to do nothing. Every now and then he would stop somewhere for la meal. Occasionally he would bump into someone and mumble an apology. Once a car nearly ran him over as he was crossing the street. Stillman did not talk to anyone, did not go into any stores, did not smile. He seemed neither happy nor sad. Twice, when his scavenging haul had been unusually large, he returned to the hotel in the middle of the day and then reemerged a few minutes later with an empty bag. On most days he spent at least several hours in Riverside Park, walking methodically along the macadam footpaths or else thrashing through the bushes with a stick. His quest for objects did not abate amidst the greenery. Stones, leaves, and twigs all found their way into his bag. Once, Qui
The essential thing was to stay involved. Little by little, Qui
It was possible, of course, that Stillman was merely biding his time, lulling the world into lethargy before striking. But that would assume he was aware of being watched, and Qui
This view of the situation comforted Qui
There remained the problem of how to occupy his thoughts as he followed the old man. Qui
For a day or two this tactic was mildly successful, but eventually even Auster began to droop from the monotony. Qui
His nightly conversations with Virginia Stillman were brief. Although the memory of the kiss was still sharp in Qui