OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University
OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University
12 MAINLY MAIGRET " Why? " " He asked me who you were. Mighty struck on you, he is, that Dutchman. But he can't stand the sight of Monsieur Nagear." She shrugged her shoulders and leant forward for him to light her cigarette. Van der Boomp emerged from the lift, hesitated for a moment, then went up to the porter, saying to Sylvie: " Excuse me." " So you're leaving us tonight, sir? " "I have to." He emphasized the words, looking straight at Sylvie; then handed the man some crumpled notes he had been holding ready for him. " But I'll be back next week." He took a few steps forward, hesitated again, and finally, with a vague wave of his hand, stepped out on to the pavement. " He's a business man from Amsterdam," the porter informed Sylvie. " Rolling in it, I should say. He comes here every Wednesday. So if you're still here next week . . ." Her eyelashes fluttered. But all she said was: " When Monsieur Nagear comes back, say I'm at the Merryland. . .. No, don't tell him anything. That'll teach him a lesson! Pagel Call me a taxi, please." The snow was coming down steadily now, in big flakes that melted immediately they touched the pavement. Trains were whistling, a hundred yards away, in the Gare du Nord. II IT was while he was standing on the pavement in the Rue Neuve, jostled by the crowd and gazing into a tobacconist's window, with a shrill-voiced urchin hawking lottery tickets at his elbow, that suddenly it dawned on Elie how very far he had travelled since leaving his home in Istanbul. The tobacconist's window was packed with boxes of cigars and cigarettes of every brand, and amongst the latter he saw some white boxes bearing the name " Abdullah." At Pera the most fashionable restaurant in the main thoroughfare is likewise called Abdullah. On the eve of his departure Elie had dined there with friends. He knew almost everyone, shook hands at every table. " I'm off to France tomorrow,"
THE LODGER '3 « Lucky devil I" And now, standing at the corner of the Rue Neuve, his hands in his overcoat pockets, try as he might, somehow he couldn't recall the Abdullah restaurant. Not that he had any trouble in remembering its appearance. But that was not what he was after. He wanted to recapture the atmosphere and, still more, his mood that evening. Why, for instance, had he set out on this long journey though he had guessed from the start that the deal in carpets was bound to fail? And why had he pretended to be so cocksure, telling everybody he knew, with a triumphant air: " I'm on to a good thing, and I'm sailing for Marseilles tomorrow? " All along the main street of Pera, where people were strolling in the cool of the evening, he had buttonholed acquaintances and imparted the great news. Now, all that seemed so remote, so unreal, that he could fancy it a dream. Reality was the here and now: slushy pavements, a biting wind, fever, a sore nose, a dull ache between his shoulder-blades. He entered the tobacconist's. " A packet of Turkish cigarettes, please.' The small blue jet of a gas cigar-lighter danced before his eyes. The tobacconist was pink and plump. Dark forms scudded past outside the window. A packet was handed him. " Those aren't Turks.' " They're Egyptian. Much better." " There's no tobacco in Egypt." " No tobacco in Egypt! That's a good one! " " It's a fact," he said to the fat Belgian, who was glaring at him indignantly. " What you call Egyptian tobacco is all imported from Turkey and Bulgaria." Wondering what had possessed him to telKhe man all this, he stepped out of the shop, plunged again into the crowd, and walked, or rather splashed his way, ahead. Now and again he halted in front of a shop-window, usually one with a mirror, in which he could take stock of his appearance. He was wearing a camel's-hair overcoat, an elegant felt hat, a well-cut suit. Why did he suddenly strike himself as a pitiable sight? Was it because of a two-days' growth of beard, or his red, swollen nose and puffy cheeks? In any case, he was shocked by the face confronting him—" like death warmed up," he muttered with a wry smile.
- Page 1: UNIVERSAL LIBRARY OU_214051 UNIVERS
- Page 5 and 6: Georges Simenon MAINLY MAIGRET The
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- Page 47 and 48: THE LODGER 35 " Monsieur Moise! We'
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- Page 51 and 52: THE LODGER 39 He had only employed
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- Page 57 and 58: THE LODGER 45 " Are you in bed? " M
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12 MAINLY MAIGRET<br />
" Why? "<br />
" He asked me who you were. Mighty struck on you, he is, that<br />
Dutchman. But he can't stand the sight of Monsieur Nagear."<br />
She shrugged her shoulders and leant forward for him to light<br />
her cigarette. Van der Boomp emerged from the lift, hesitated for<br />
a moment, then went up to the porter, saying to Sylvie:<br />
" Excuse me."<br />
" So you're leaving us tonight, sir? "<br />
"I have to." He emphasized the words, looking straight at<br />
Sylvie; then handed the man some crumpled notes he had been<br />
holding ready for him. " But I'll be back next week."<br />
He took a few steps forward, hesitated again, and finally, with<br />
a vague wave of his hand, stepped out on to the pavement.<br />
" He's a business man from Amsterdam," the porter informed<br />
Sylvie. " Rolling in it, I should say. He comes here every Wednesday.<br />
So if you're still here next week . . ."<br />
Her eyelashes fluttered. But all she said was:<br />
" When Monsieur Nagear comes back, say I'm at the Merryland.<br />
. .. No, don't tell him anything. That'll teach him a lesson!<br />
Pagel Call me a taxi, please."<br />
The snow was coming down steadily now, in big flakes that<br />
melted immediately they touched the pavement. Trains were<br />
whistling, a hundred yards away, in the Gare du Nord.<br />
II<br />
IT was while he was standing on the pavement in the Rue Neuve,<br />
jostled by the crowd and gazing into a tobacconist's window, with<br />
a shrill-voiced urchin hawking lottery tickets at his elbow, that<br />
suddenly it dawned on Elie how very far he had travelled since<br />
leaving his home in Istanbul. The tobacconist's window was packed<br />
with boxes of cigars and cigarettes of every brand, and amongst the<br />
latter he saw some white boxes bearing the name " Abdullah."<br />
At Pera the most fashionable restaurant in the main thoroughfare<br />
is likewise called Abdullah. On the eve of his departure Elie had<br />
dined there with friends. He knew almost everyone, shook hands at<br />
every table.<br />
" I'm off to France tomorrow,"
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