SCHNEIDER.

        ^{❛      dankeschön,   herr.   oh,   were   you   ??   everyone   says   my   britishness   always   jumps   out.      ❜         of   course   harry   hart   did   believe   his   german   was   impeccable   —   he   had   learned   it   40   years   ago,   a   wee   lad   who   could   see   patterns   really   well.   he   still   remembered   reading   all   of   these   grammar   books,   german   and   french.   dad   said   i   should   focus   on   school,   but   i   digressed,   reminisced   he.   the   kingsman   looked   around,   looking   for   employees   that   weren’t   the   younger   man   —   but   no   one   was   there.         ❛      indeed,   i   am   a   tailor.      ❜         or   something   like   it,   he   thought.         ❛      well,   whatever   tailors   cut.      ❜         skin,   for   example.   with   bullets.         ❛      fabric.      ❜         bulletproof   fabric.         ❛      do   you   germans   have   a   different   material   to   cut   ??      ❜         joked   harry.}

                   _{———❝ MY LITTLE SHOP RARELY GETS CUSTOMERS. in fact, i’m only here to fill in for the absence of my assistant. ❞
he smiled, dodging the previous question like it had merely confirmed his fears. slow, the man walked as though naturally headed for the back of the shop. lifting the divider, a hand lingered beneath the counter top as he counted the bills left in the register. this was one of his more vulnerable places, too close to home and far from his other occupations.}

     _{❝ so tell me, who do you work for? ❞}