On and on would hammer those merciless thoughts,
growing always more urgent but more bewildered as
Kahn listened and sniffed and longed for sleep, yet
feared to close his eyes for an instant. His aggressive
assurance had left him completely, he was now little
better than a deflated bladder. He could see only
destitution ahead, this in spite of the fact that never
in history had more jobs been open to men of his age
who were able and willing to make themselves useful.
Immense chagrin, humiliation and terror were com*
bining to rob the man of his senses; no shell-shocked,
battle-torn wreck from the front could have been less
capable of clear thinking.
§3
Kahn never knew at what precise moment after
the auction he evolved the idea of going to see Jouse
Benedit, nor did he trouble to analyse his motive.
Was it a sudden belated desire to render the stricken
Jouse a service because Kahn had learnt what it felt
like to fail? Or was it partly self-preservation — the
wild hope that by serving the man he had harmed
he would gain some small measure of toleration?
Who shall answer, since all human motives are mixed
and are seldom more palatable for the mixing.
With bent head Kahn walked slowly away from the
port, away from the littered and empty shop with the
notice: 'A Vendre5 pasted up on its windows, away
from the scene of his desolation. With bent head he
knocked on the Benedit5 s door, then waited, not daring
to knock again so fearful was he anent his reception.
The door opened and Marie stood in the entrance:
'You . . .' she breathed, 'You, Kahn. . . .' And
then she fell silent.
'Yes/ he muttered, cit is Kahn. I have something
to say ... I have something that I must say to
your husband.3
380