A Long Silence [antikvár]

Part One'In the way to study a long silence'When Dick stopped to look into the jewellers' window it was for no good reason, nor even for a bad one. The little ends of thread leading nowhere that govern our lives can suddenly plait themselves together into a cord strong enough to hang a dog by.Dick wanted to eat his sandwich. He hadn't really wanted the sandwich, and certainly not in that smelly snackbar, but he had some kind of nervous hunger which was making his stomach rumble. Nor did he want to eat it in the crowded street, and this was a good place, a privileged position, for the jewellers' sat back in a sort of bay where the pavement was broader, where the window-gazer was not bumped by the restless eddy of people passing by, privileged because most of Amsterdam's shopping streets are narrow and noisy, but this was not a place for zircon engagement rings and little plated charms, where you go for an alarm-clock. A sanctum all dim light and ash-grey velvet, and when you go inside valuable but useless antiques like sedan chairs or inlaid chess-tables are scattered casually about.There was not really much to see: the shop was deep but narrow, and the thick armour glass masked by baroque wrought-iron grilles, themselves masking sophisticated alarm systems. But the door pleased him; very thick and heavy, a sort of glass box, or perhaps a glass coffin, thought Dick, standing up on end. It was divided into many shallow glass shelves, and these were filled with the little items of bric-a-brac which are good publicity because they catch the eye - snuffboxes, scent-bottles, uncut semi-precious stones, tortoiseshell whatnots studded with brilliants and little figurines of amber or soapstone.Dick chewed leisurely at his sandwich - a Dutch sandwich, a