The Man With the Pistol

Anders had never paid much attention to that part of the bank, a pompous old building with marble floors and counters and pillars. The domed ceiling had been decorated with mythological figures whose fleshy, toga-draped ugliness Anders had taken in at a glance many years earlier and afterward declined to notice. Now he had no choice but to scrutinize the painter's work. It was even worse than he'd remembered, and all of it executed with the utmost gravity. He covered his mouth with both hands and said, I'm sorry,. then snorted helplessly through his fingers and said, Kapish, oh God, Kapish. And at that, the man