OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

4 MAINLY MAIORET
had a finger in the pie, and the negotiations had been dragging on
for months. Nagear, who had business connections in Brussels, had
volunteered to see the transactions through, and displayed such
assurance of success that he had been given an advance.
Also, they had promised him two hundred thousand francs more
once he had cleared and sold the carpets.
Sylvie had started the voyage in the second-class. From the first
day out four or five men were dancing attendance on her, and she
stayed on deck after dinner till two or three in the morning.
And next day she moved into a first-class cabin. Who had paid
the supplement? Not Elie in any case, as at that stage he hadn't got
in touch with her. He succeeded in doing so only just before the
ship reached Naples, where she told him she was going to get off.
He paid her passage on to Marseilles, took her with him to Paris,
and then to Brussels. They had been there for three days now, and
he had already discovered that the carpet venture was quite hopeless.
To make things worse he had fallen ill, and he had barely a
thousand francs left. One eye hidden by the quilt, with the other
he watched Sylvie smearing red on her lips.
" Really I don't see what you can want to do out of doors at
this hour of the morning," he said querulously.
" That's my business, as I told you just now."
" Unless you're going to make a pass at that Dutchman. . . ."
" Why not? "
But he was only pretending to be jealous. On board ship it had
been a different matter; there was keen competition between the
men, and ajl the other passengers had watched their tactics with
amused interest. Then, he had really felt jealous of his rivals.
But now—he knew her too well. He had seeri her at her worst, in
bed in the early morning, when the freckles under her eyes showed
like angry blotches and her features, in repose, betrayed their
coarseness.
" Now then! " she said, drawing the tight skirt up over her hips,
" hand over that money."
He didn't move, even when she took his wallet from his coatpocket.
He watched her counting out four, five, six hundred-franc
notes and slipping them into her bag. Trams were clanging up and
down the Avenue, each with its one big headlight on.
" Shall I tell them to send you up some breakfast? ... Well,
why don't you answer? What's come over you? "
No, he wouldn't answer. And the sight of that bloodshot eye