The Unconsoled

My 6 highlights

• He was unshaven, but not outrageously so, and his dinner jacket was slightly askew as though it had been put on him by someone else. His features, though coarsened and aged, had a trace left about them of the debonair.

• It was even possible he had fallen asleep in his chair and that the function of Hoffman’s arm behind his back was primarily physical.

• The large man sat down, shaking his head mournfully. Then a woman at a table near him rose, touching her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘Surely there’s no doubt about it,’ she said. ‘He was the greatest dog of his generation. Surely there’s no doubt about it.’

• ‘Let me be frank, Mr Ryder. Your coming has put the room you’re now occupying under its first true test. You see, this is the first time I’ve had a truly distinguished guest in that room since its reconceptualisation four years ago.

• ‘I’ll first of all install Boris inside. I’ll come back out and join you in just one minute.’

• ‘Perhaps Mr Brodsky should be offered another dog as a sort of present. Perhaps a young puppy.’ I had said this without much thought, but Hoffman made a show of considering it respectfully. ‘I’m not sure, Mr Ryder. You must realise, he was extremely attached to Bruno. He kept little other company. He’ll be in a state of mourning. But you may be right, we must alleviate his loneliness now that Bruno has gone. Perhaps some other animal. Something soothing. A bird in a cage, say. Then in time, when he is ready, another dog could be introduced. I’m not sure.’