Free North by Louis-Ferdinand Céline Page A

. . but we can only get out to the corridor by pivoting four bricks . . . not through the door! hell no! the whole third floor would cave in! Bébert goes in and out where he likes . . . cracks . . . rat holes . . . curtains . . . some of the crevices are a little, wider, room for Lili to get through . . . she goes out . . . other end of the corridor . . . she calls me . . . I don't feel like it. . .
    "Oh, come on!"
    "What do you see?"
    "Another hole!"
    Okay! . . . I drag myself . . . on all fours . . . I demolish a little more of the wall . . . Le Vig comes too, on all fours . . . here we are at the other end of the floor . . . another precipice at the edge of a crater, a different crater! . . . a big carpet hung up to keep out the breezes . . . after the carpet the void, another hole . . . big enough to sink three houses . . . maybe they're in it . . . they must be . . . the Steinbock Hotel was in luck, it could have collapsed on both sides . . . a lot of it came off, only three floors are standing . . . if you call it standing . . . which reminds me . . . I've got to ask the moujik where the other guests are . . . "sight-seeing"? . . . the new Berlin? . . . but say, what about our pictures? . . .
    "Le Vig! the Photomaton!"
    The cop with the passports musst be wondering what's become of us . . . must be back from lunch by now . . . he'll think we're pulling a fast one . . . Hell! a little rest first . . . especially after that cabbage soup . . . I'm not saying anything, but it was kind of heavy . . . so here we are on all fours, prospecting another crack . . . wider, easier going . . . Bébert finds a big one . . . I hadn't seen it . . . there! we've made it! but all covered with plaster, sand, ashes . . . we'll wash . . . 
    "Ivan! Ivan!" I call.
    He hasn't told me his name but he can't have any objection to Ivan . . . maybe he's got a brush? with all this plaster and muck we could use a curry-comb . . .
    "Ivan! Ivan!"
    Nobody comes . . . we he down . . . Le Vig drops off . . . I could do the same . . . Lili's dozing . . . Bébert is between the two of us . . .
    It was almost dark when the sirens started in . . . first one . . . then a hundred! . . . without those sirens we'd still be sleeping . . . 
    "Le Vig! . . . Le Vig! . . ."
    "Don't worry . . . the Russian said they've stopped bombing . . . they just pass over . . ."
    Ivan in the corridor, I hear him . . . what's he want?
    "A couple of holes aren't the end of the world!"
    I disagree . . .
    "Forget it, forget it, I tell you . . . they're going someplace else . . ."
    Le Vig has faith.
    Ah, here's Ivan! he comes in . . . three more messkits, potatoes and beets and mineral water! where does he get all this stuff?
    "Ivan, have you got a little meat? . . . not for us, for our cat here?"
    "Da! da! da! Ich will!"
    This Ivan is providential . . . deserves another hundred marks . . . I'll ruin myself for Ivan!
    "Le Vigan . . . Le Vigan! . . . come and eat!"
    He crawls through his crevice, he's yawning . . .
    "Is it like this in Russia?"
    I'm curious . . .
    "Ach! viel besser! much better!"
    "And in Siberia!"
    "Noch viel, besser! . . . much better still!"
    "See? That's the place for us . . ."
    "Siberia, here we come!"
    All set! . . . Ivan stands there looking at us . . . do we really like the food?
    "Merkwürdig, Ivan! marvelous!"
    Siberia? Well, we'd better sleep on it.
    "What's worrying me right now is that cop."
    Le Vigan thinks it over.i
    "He's not expecting us back!"
    "But the pictures?"
    I feel more energetic, I think we'd better go . . . Ivan comes in with a little piece of meat . . . I know about meat . . . this meat doesn't smell . . . but it's pale . . . I'm not trying to upset your stomach, but a spade . . . got to call it a spade . . . "one sees only what one looks at and one looks only at what one already has in mind" . . . Bébert sniffs at this piece of pale meat . . . he bites into it, he doesn't turn it down . . . no comment . . . well, at least, he's got