Человек в высоком замке

           "Forabouttwothousandbucksyoucouldsetupalittlebasementorgarageshop.OnetimeIdrewupdesignsforwomen’searringsandpendants.Youremember—realmoderncontemporary."Takingscratchpaper,hebegantodraw,slowly,grimly.

           Peeringoverhisshoulder,Frinksawabraceletdesign,anabstractwithflowinglines."Isthereamarket?"Allhehadeverseenwerethetraditional—evenantique—objectsfromthepast."NobodywantscontemporaryAmerican;thereisn’tanysuchthing,notsincethewar."

           "Createamarket,"McCarthysaid,withanangrygrimace.

           "Youmeansellitmyself?"

           "Takeitintoretailshops.Likethat—what’sitcalled?OnMontgomeryStreet,thatbigritzyartobjectplace."

           "AmericanArtisticHandcrafts,"Frinksaid.Heneverwentintofashionable,expensivestoressuchasthat.FewAmericansdid;itwastheJapanesewhohadthemoneytobuyfromsuchplaces.

           "Youknowwhatretailerslikethatareselling?"McCarthysaid."Andgettingafortunefor?ThosegoddamsilverbeltbucklesfromNewMexicothattheIndiansmake.Thosegoddamtouristtrashpieces,allalike.Supposedlynativeart."

           ForalongtimeFrinkregardedMcCarthy."Iknowwhatelsetheysell,"hesaidfinally."Andsodoyou."

           "Yes,"McCarthysaid.

           Theybothknew—becausetheyhadbothbeendirectlyinvolved,andforalongtime.