had once contained hydrogen peroxide.
When the sleepy concierge worked the mechanism of the front door, Alice was greeted by a gust of wind which dashed her with raindrops from head to foot. The road was bare and glistening. The last tram was waiting at the stop, in a halo of yellow light, on the far side of the crossroads. One of the cafés was still open.
Close to her, right in the doorway, the girl saw a shadowy figure and paused for a moment before plunging out onto the wet pavement.
'So you're there?' she remarked calmly.
It was the youngest of the inspectors who stood, with his coat collar turned up, huddled in the far corner of the entrance.
'A nice job, yours! I don't feel well. I've caught cold. So I got up to fetch some rum.'
She showed him her little bottle.
'Would you like me to go for it?'
'And what if he came out while you were away.'
Her voice sounded quite natural. She walked close to the wall, head lowered, feet splashing into puddles, and the inspector watched her go into the corner bistro , where the glass-paned door set a bell ringing as it opened. Four men were still playing cards there, and the wife of one of them was waiting.
'I want some rum please.'
And as the proprietor poured some into a pewter measure:
'Hasn't Émile been?'
'He left at least an hour ago.'
'Alone?'
'Alone,' replied the man with a wink.
'I'll pay to-morrow. I haven't brought my bag. When you see Emile, tell him I want to speak to him.'
Her grey, drawn face betrayed anxiety, but her voice was calm, her manner normal. She went out, carrying her bottle, and without glancing at the empty cross-roads, from which the tram was now noisily departing, she walked back under the house walls, her shoulders getting wetter and wetter and the hair beginning to curl on her forehead because of the damp.
The inspector was waiting for her, standing very upright now. He had straightened his hat, which, before, had been pulled right down to his ears, and as Alice put out her hand to ring, he stopped her.
'What's the hurry?'
Obediently, she turned towards him, and the man, bending forward to look through the opening of her coat, exclaimed:
'But you're in your nightdress!'
'Of course.'
'And you've nothing on underneath?'
He smiled, and extended a hand to touch the top of the white cotton nightdress.
'Your fingers are frozen.'
'Is this better?'
His hand closed round her full breast, above the nightdress, and the inspector went on:
'One would never think there was so much of it!' . Alice was waiting, still holding her bottle, and she leant back against the door, while the man came nearer, standing in the rain, cutting off her view of the road, talking to her from so near that she could feel his breath on her face.
'To think that you're going back to a nice warm bed, while I have to spend the night out here!'
His hand was still squeezing her breast, which had not even quivered, and he put his face close to the girl's neck, sniffing at it, now and then pressing his lips against it, at the roots of her hair.
'You're tickling! So you haven't finished your inquiry yet?' Big drops of cold water were falling from the brim of his hat onto Alice's hand.
'It won't be long now, unfortunately. And then I shan't be able to enjoy these pretty things any more . . .'
She smiled non-committally. 'Are they going to arrest him?'
'It won't need much. One more little clue. He's feeling hunted. As soon as that happens, they never fail to make blunders.'
'You're hurting,' she protested, as he crushed her breast. 'You don't like that?'
'Yes,' she said, without conviction. He smiled, his mouth an inch away from hers.
"This sex-maniac business thrills you, doesn't it now? Of course it does! I've noticed it! Women are all the same . ..'
Her legs were frozen, her feet soaking in her shoes, and the man's fingers still clutching the same breast had begun to feel as though they were scorching her.
'Do you suppose you'll arrest him to-morrow?'
'If it
When the sleepy concierge worked the mechanism of the front door, Alice was greeted by a gust of wind which dashed her with raindrops from head to foot. The road was bare and glistening. The last tram was waiting at the stop, in a halo of yellow light, on the far side of the crossroads. One of the cafés was still open.
Close to her, right in the doorway, the girl saw a shadowy figure and paused for a moment before plunging out onto the wet pavement.
'So you're there?' she remarked calmly.
It was the youngest of the inspectors who stood, with his coat collar turned up, huddled in the far corner of the entrance.
'A nice job, yours! I don't feel well. I've caught cold. So I got up to fetch some rum.'
She showed him her little bottle.
'Would you like me to go for it?'
'And what if he came out while you were away.'
Her voice sounded quite natural. She walked close to the wall, head lowered, feet splashing into puddles, and the inspector watched her go into the corner bistro , where the glass-paned door set a bell ringing as it opened. Four men were still playing cards there, and the wife of one of them was waiting.
'I want some rum please.'
And as the proprietor poured some into a pewter measure:
'Hasn't Émile been?'
'He left at least an hour ago.'
'Alone?'
'Alone,' replied the man with a wink.
'I'll pay to-morrow. I haven't brought my bag. When you see Emile, tell him I want to speak to him.'
Her grey, drawn face betrayed anxiety, but her voice was calm, her manner normal. She went out, carrying her bottle, and without glancing at the empty cross-roads, from which the tram was now noisily departing, she walked back under the house walls, her shoulders getting wetter and wetter and the hair beginning to curl on her forehead because of the damp.
The inspector was waiting for her, standing very upright now. He had straightened his hat, which, before, had been pulled right down to his ears, and as Alice put out her hand to ring, he stopped her.
'What's the hurry?'
Obediently, she turned towards him, and the man, bending forward to look through the opening of her coat, exclaimed:
'But you're in your nightdress!'
'Of course.'
'And you've nothing on underneath?'
He smiled, and extended a hand to touch the top of the white cotton nightdress.
'Your fingers are frozen.'
'Is this better?'
His hand closed round her full breast, above the nightdress, and the inspector went on:
'One would never think there was so much of it!' . Alice was waiting, still holding her bottle, and she leant back against the door, while the man came nearer, standing in the rain, cutting off her view of the road, talking to her from so near that she could feel his breath on her face.
'To think that you're going back to a nice warm bed, while I have to spend the night out here!'
His hand was still squeezing her breast, which had not even quivered, and he put his face close to the girl's neck, sniffing at it, now and then pressing his lips against it, at the roots of her hair.
'You're tickling! So you haven't finished your inquiry yet?' Big drops of cold water were falling from the brim of his hat onto Alice's hand.
'It won't be long now, unfortunately. And then I shan't be able to enjoy these pretty things any more . . .'
She smiled non-committally. 'Are they going to arrest him?'
'It won't need much. One more little clue. He's feeling hunted. As soon as that happens, they never fail to make blunders.'
'You're hurting,' she protested, as he crushed her breast. 'You don't like that?'
'Yes,' she said, without conviction. He smiled, his mouth an inch away from hers.
"This sex-maniac business thrills you, doesn't it now? Of course it does! I've noticed it! Women are all the same . ..'
Her legs were frozen, her feet soaking in her shoes, and the man's fingers still clutching the same breast had begun to feel as though they were scorching her.
'Do you suppose you'll arrest him to-morrow?'
'If it
Similar Books
