The Dwarfs Read Free Page B

On your bookshelf.
    - Oh yes.
    - Have you ever read it?
    - Well, to tell you the truth, Pete, I haven’t quite got round to it yet.
    - You’ve had it about five years. What do I keep you for?
    - No, I need a holiday first, before I can have a go at it.
    - It’s about time you branched out, Pete said. Do yourself a favour.
    - You can never tell.
    They turned the corner by the Electricity Company.
    - What do you know about love? Pete said.
    - Love?
    - Yes, you must know something about it.
    - What makes you say that?
    A sudden shower drove them into the doorway of a bookshop. They watched the rain bounce on the steps of the police station. A policeman came out of the station and looked across the road.
    - Well, Mark said, this is the best secondhand bookshop in the East of London, Clive.
    - I must say it looks impressive.
    - Isn’t that the Yellow Book , just behind the black book?
    - It’s something to do with artichokes, Pete said, bending.
    The policeman walked across the road towards them.
    - Ethiopian architecture I think it was.
    - What was?
    - That book I nearly bought.
    - Oh that one. I thought it was Logic and Colic by Blitz.
    - Oh no, Mark said, you’re thinking of Dust by Crutz.
    - Am I?
    The policeman walked past the doorway.
    - Good health.
    - Let’s go the other way, Mark said.
    - Anyway, Pete said, as they stepped into the street, it sticks out a mile you’re the right bloke to ask about love.
    - Does it? Why?
    - The point is this, Pete said. I’ve got a few ideas for somelove stories for women’s magazines.
    - What?
    - Yes. But I start out with a working deficiency, because I know next to nothing; about the subject. But I was thinking, if you could give me; a few hot tips, it shouldn’t take me long to get the whole business taped.
    - You’re pulling my whatsit.
    - Cross my heart, I’m not. I’m dead serious. It’ll do me good to try my hand at the game. Why not? Well, come on. What’s it all about?
    - Do me a favour.
    - What’s the matter? You’ve been up to your knees in this lovelark for years.
    - That’s right, Mark said. It makes the world go round.
    - How does a bloke in love feel? What are his feelings?
    - Look, why don’t you find out for yourself?
    - How do I go about it?
    They walked under the railway bridge.
    - All right, Mark said!. You’ve brought it up. What’s the position between you. and Virginia?
    - We’ve got a lot in common.
    - But you wouldn’t say you loved her?
    - That question might even be relevant, Pete said. But I can’t answer it.
    - Does the blood flow?
    - What do you mean?
    - Does it flow?
    - The blood? Well, I’ll tell you. We don’t go in for it much these days.
    - You don’t?
    Crowds were leaving the Hackney Empire. They crossed the road.
    - No. The way I look at it is this. It was an unknown factor I had to solve and I solved it - years ago - and it’s not much use to me now.
    - It’s not, eh?
    - No.
    - Well, Mark said, I think you could do yourself a bit of good to give it another run.
    - No. I don’t think that’s the answer to anything.
    Crossing by the trafficlights and moving towards Cambridge Heath they smelt soap, crisp and insistent in the street.
    - Where is it? Mark sniffed. Where’s the factory? Where is it?
    - Somewhere over there, Pete pointed.
    They looked across the street and, under the sootwalls of an arch, saw the chimneys, wasteland and dark warehouses.
    - Of course, it may not exist at all. May be God letting out the bath.
    - It exists all right, Pete said. Day and night they let out that stink. Straight into my bedroom window. Just the job. Grin and bear it.
    - Very congenial.
    At Cambridge Heath station they went into a café and sat down with two teas.
    - You know what? Pete said. I had one of my old boat dreams last night.
    - Did you?
    - Yes, Pete said. I was on this boat with Virginia, see? A motorboat. Going down a river. We turned a bend, and there, in front of us, about a hundred yards downstream, was the calmest patch