A Necessary Action
“He woke at about eight in the evening feeling hungry, and as soon as he had washed and dressed, he went up into the town to eat. The eating-place he usually frequented was small and seedy, in a narrow side-street off the Avenue, up by the church. It was run by a couple of old maids and was mostly frequented by junior non-commissioned officers feeling the need for a change from army fare. The food was uninviting but cheap. Only two courses were served, either a kind of soup with green leaves flo...ating in it, or black pudding with rice. The soup was thin and not very nourishing but the rice oozed with mutton-fat and refined olive-oil, so anyone eating both courses did not need to leave the table hungry. For three months, June, July and August, Willi Mohr had gone there every evening, but then his money had come to an end and he had been forced to live on bread and salted sardines bought on credit at the tienda. This did not matter all that much, as he was more or less indifferent to what he ate, but he was not domestic and did not like messing about with food.MoreLess
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