It must have been chance that led them to meet on the same train. They had known each other for some time and had agreed to meet to settle the matter. Since then, several months had passed without the meeting ever taking place. The commitments contracted in the maelstrom of life in a large city are not easily fulfilled.
When the lawyer realized that his client had entered the carriage, he saw fit to unfurl the first newspaper he found at hand. Over the top of the page, he saw how the man scanned the available seats and decided on the one directly opposite; so close that, if the lawyer lowered the paper just a bit more, he would meet the eyes of his associate. It was for this reason that he decided to keep it at the same height and wait for a new stroke of luck to allow him to change carriages. It was not that there was a bond between them resembling friendship, yet they were more than mere acquaintances. They had met on several occasions and, as previously mentioned, were waiting for a new encounter.
The lawyer, alerted by a lapse in his counterpart’s attention, freed one hand from the newspaper and adjusted his hat so that it covered much of his forehead and eyebrows. The greatest obstacle between them was the proximity at which they sat, to the point that the feet of one were at the mercy of the other’s. Under such circumstances, maintaining discretion was exceedingly difficult.
—”Does it bother you if I smoke?” —the newcomer asked.
—”No,” —the lawyer stammered, his voice disguised by anonymity.
The train moved with a notable sway due to the old railway line it traveled upon, making it hard for the lawyer to keep the newspaper properly raised. More than once, he was tempted to stand up and leave, but he doubted the portion of his face left exposed would be enough to keep from giving him away. On the other hand, moving with his face covered by the daily paper would prove a significantly suspicious act. Apparently, he did not underestimate the limited maneuverability afforded by their closeness. Even so, he had to try.
Beside the lawyer traveled a teenager, for whom it was becoming incomprehensible that, an hour after departure, his neighbor’s gaze remained fixed on the same spot of the paper—though it was fair to assume he was one of those people who board and exit public transport for no apparent reason. However, his neighbor opposite was bound to fall asleep at some point in the journey. Why shouldn’t it happen? Almost everyone traveling for more than three hours by train ends up sleeping eventually. He weighed this idea and listened for any sound indicating the act had been consummated. If necessary, he was even willing to ask the boy beside him. The young are usually quite willing to play the part of the spy.
The last meeting between the two had passed in an atmosphere of notable cordially; now, however, everything had gone sour. Suddenly, the official with the bell announced the ticket inspection. Just as the man was in front of him—if he were lucky enough to be checked first—he would stand up and retreat. He had to seize the opportunity now that the newspaper was beginning to draw his counterpart’s attention. Fortunately, his ticket was inspected before that of his potential interlocutor, so when the official stepped between them, he stood up and quickly left the compartment.
Once in the hallway, he breathed a sigh of relief. He strolled down the long corridor and settled in a rest area where he could contemplate the full extent of the landscape. Not long after, he thought he saw his old acquaintance approaching, so he took up the newspaper again and turned his back. One might say he was counting the steps of the one drawing near. He searched in vain for a suitable pretext to explain his strange behavior when he saw that the individual was passing by his side, his hat pulled down to his eyebrows and a newspaper similar to his own covering part of his face. The train announced its first stop.
Image: The Third-Class Carriage, 1864, by Honoré Daumier.
