her arm and leading her to the lobby. Garin came to his side.
'A taxi,' Girland said. 'Mademoiselle is not well.'
There was a taxi waiting by the time Vi had put on her coat.
'I want to go home alone,' she said to Girland. She couldn't another second of his company so great was her terror.
'Thank you . . . I'm sorry...'.
'But of course I'll take you home,' Girland said quietly.
Vi cried hysterically, T want to go alone! Leave me alone!' Pushing past Girland, she ran out, got into the taxi and was driven away.
Girland stared after the taxi, then shrugged.
You can't win all the time, he told himself as he walked back to his table, feeling depressed. His evening had collapsed under him.
The steak au poivre had been removed and was being kept hot. The wine waiter served the Burgundy. Girland received his steak, but he now found he had lost his appetite. A gruesome evening, he thought, but cheered up slightly after drinking a glass of the magnificent wine.
Later, he left the restaurant and got into his little Fiat. He sat for a long moment wondering what to do. The time now was 21.50 hrs. He wondered if he should go to the Poker Club where the game would be in full swing, but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood, and besides, he reminded himself he would have to be up horribly early to catch the 07.50 flight to Munich. Feeling deflated, he decided to return to his apartment.
One of these days, he said to himself as he drove with the slow moving traffic, you' 11 have to find yourself a permanent woman. You're getting bored with looking after yourself... chasing rainbows.
He became even more gloomy with this thought until suddenly he caught sight of a blonde girl running along the sidewalk. She wore a red mini skirt and a tight-fitting white sweater. She ran easily well, and her long legs were slim and beautiful: her full breasts bounced joyfully as she ran.
Girland brightened immediately. So long as there were girls around like this one, he told himself, there must still be fun and hope left in this drab, drab world.
In a much better frame of mind, he continued on towards his apartment.
* * *
Vi lay on the bed. She was feeling better. She had only just managed to reach the toilet on the eighth floor before she had thrown up. She was now feeling relaxed, a little cold and still frightened, but better. She began to think of that delicious-looking trout left on the plate at Chez Garin and became aware she was hungry.
The door jerked open and Labrey came in. He stood in the doorway glaring at her.
'What the hell are you doing back here?' he snarled. He moved into the tiny room and slammed the door. 'Why aren't you with Girland?'
Vi cringed away from him.
I was ill... I did see him... I took too many pills. I had to leave.'
Labrey stood over her. He looked as if he were about to hit her.
Ill? Didn't you find out anything, you stupid bitch?'
'Dont't call me that!' Vi struggled to sit upright, but he put his hand over her face and slammed her back on the pillow.
'Answer me!'
'He told me he was going to Garmisch tomorrow.'
Labrey drew in a long, deep breath, then sat on the bed beside her. He put his hand on her arm, digging his fingers into her flesh.
'Garmisch, Germany? Are you sure?'
'How can I be sure? ... he told me he was... you're hurting me!'
'What happened? Tell me everything!'
As he released the grip on her arm, Vi recounted the meeting at the restaurant and what was said.
Labrey considered what she had told him, then got to his feet. 'All right. Stay here. I must telephone.'
'But I'm hungry,' Vi wailed.
'Then come with me. I want to eat too.'
As Vi struggled off the bed, she asked, 'Have I done right? Are you pleased with me?'
He suddenly smiled at her. The hateful, savage expression went off his face and he was again the Paul she knew.
'You've done damn well... at least, I think so. Come on, let's get out of here.'
At the bistro on Rue Lekain, Labrey left her to order the meal while he
'A taxi,' Girland said. 'Mademoiselle is not well.'
There was a taxi waiting by the time Vi had put on her coat.
'I want to go home alone,' she said to Girland. She couldn't another second of his company so great was her terror.
'Thank you . . . I'm sorry...'.
'But of course I'll take you home,' Girland said quietly.
Vi cried hysterically, T want to go alone! Leave me alone!' Pushing past Girland, she ran out, got into the taxi and was driven away.
Girland stared after the taxi, then shrugged.
You can't win all the time, he told himself as he walked back to his table, feeling depressed. His evening had collapsed under him.
The steak au poivre had been removed and was being kept hot. The wine waiter served the Burgundy. Girland received his steak, but he now found he had lost his appetite. A gruesome evening, he thought, but cheered up slightly after drinking a glass of the magnificent wine.
Later, he left the restaurant and got into his little Fiat. He sat for a long moment wondering what to do. The time now was 21.50 hrs. He wondered if he should go to the Poker Club where the game would be in full swing, but decided against it. He wasn't in the mood, and besides, he reminded himself he would have to be up horribly early to catch the 07.50 flight to Munich. Feeling deflated, he decided to return to his apartment.
One of these days, he said to himself as he drove with the slow moving traffic, you' 11 have to find yourself a permanent woman. You're getting bored with looking after yourself... chasing rainbows.
He became even more gloomy with this thought until suddenly he caught sight of a blonde girl running along the sidewalk. She wore a red mini skirt and a tight-fitting white sweater. She ran easily well, and her long legs were slim and beautiful: her full breasts bounced joyfully as she ran.
Girland brightened immediately. So long as there were girls around like this one, he told himself, there must still be fun and hope left in this drab, drab world.
In a much better frame of mind, he continued on towards his apartment.
* * *
Vi lay on the bed. She was feeling better. She had only just managed to reach the toilet on the eighth floor before she had thrown up. She was now feeling relaxed, a little cold and still frightened, but better. She began to think of that delicious-looking trout left on the plate at Chez Garin and became aware she was hungry.
The door jerked open and Labrey came in. He stood in the doorway glaring at her.
'What the hell are you doing back here?' he snarled. He moved into the tiny room and slammed the door. 'Why aren't you with Girland?'
Vi cringed away from him.
I was ill... I did see him... I took too many pills. I had to leave.'
Labrey stood over her. He looked as if he were about to hit her.
Ill? Didn't you find out anything, you stupid bitch?'
'Dont't call me that!' Vi struggled to sit upright, but he put his hand over her face and slammed her back on the pillow.
'Answer me!'
'He told me he was going to Garmisch tomorrow.'
Labrey drew in a long, deep breath, then sat on the bed beside her. He put his hand on her arm, digging his fingers into her flesh.
'Garmisch, Germany? Are you sure?'
'How can I be sure? ... he told me he was... you're hurting me!'
'What happened? Tell me everything!'
As he released the grip on her arm, Vi recounted the meeting at the restaurant and what was said.
Labrey considered what she had told him, then got to his feet. 'All right. Stay here. I must telephone.'
'But I'm hungry,' Vi wailed.
'Then come with me. I want to eat too.'
As Vi struggled off the bed, she asked, 'Have I done right? Are you pleased with me?'
He suddenly smiled at her. The hateful, savage expression went off his face and he was again the Paul she knew.
'You've done damn well... at least, I think so. Come on, let's get out of here.'
At the bistro on Rue Lekain, Labrey left her to order the meal while he
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