Человек в высоком замке

           Heheldahalf-finishedsilverearringagainstthenoisilyturningcottonbuff;bitsofrougespatteredhisglassesandblackenedhisnailsandhands.Theearring,shapedinasnail-shellspiral,becamehotfromfriction,butFrinkgrimlyboredownevenmore.

           "Don’tgetittooshiny,"EdMcCarthysaid."Justhitthehighspots;youcanevenleavethelowscompletely."

           FrankFrinkgrunted.

           "There’sabettermarketforsilverifit’snotpolisheduptoomuch,"Edsaid."Silverworkshouldhavethatoldlook."

           Market,Frinkthought.

           Theyhadsoldnothing.ExceptfortheconsignmentatAmericanArtisticHandcrafts,noonehadtakenanything,andtheyhadvisitedfiveretailshopsinall.

           We’renotmakinganymoney,Frinksaidtohimself.We’remakingmoreandmorejewelryandit’sjustpilinguparoundus.

           Thescrew-backoftheearringcaughtinthewheel;thepiecewhippedoutofFrink’shandsandflewtothepolishshield,thenfelltothefloor.Heshutoffthemotor.

           "Don’tletthosepiecesgo,"McCarthysaid,attheweldingtorch.

           "Christ,it’sthesizeofapea.Nowaytogetagrip."

           "Well,pickitupanyhow."

           Thehellwiththewholething,Frinkthought.

           "What’sthematter?"McCarthysaid,seeinghimmakenomovetofishuptheearring.

           Frinksaid,"We’repouringmoneyinfornothing."

           "Wecan’tsellwhatwehaven’tmade."

           "Wecan’tsellanything,"Frinksaid."Madeorunmade."

           "Fivestores.Dropinthebucket."

           "Butthetrend,"Frinksaid."It’senoughtoknow."