OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

26 MAINLY MAIORET
" How much? " she asked after a brief silence.
" A hundred thousand."
She was staring not at his face but at his overcoat.
" In the train ... ? "
They could hardly see each other. The drizzle made a haze, like
a teeming cloud of gnats, round the street-lamp.
" Yes. Van der Boom?."
She raised her eyes slowly, taken aback, but not overmuch, and
there was an unspoken question in her gaze.
" Yes," he repeated, while in his pocket his fingers made the
movement of gripping a spanner.
The wet street stretched out to infinity, grey and gleaming in the
patches of lamplight.
" How about moving on? " Sylvie suggested.
Their footsteps echoed in the emptiness between the rows of
houses, all exactly alike.
" It's in the newspapers, I expect," he said.
" You haven't looked at them? " She sounded surprised.
He shook his head, and she guessed he hadn't dared to buy one.
There was no need for him to speak. She knew that he expected her
to help him; that was why he had returned to Brussels. And she
knew that he was waiting. ...
" They're sure to be watching the frontiers," she murmured, as
if to herself. Then added more loudly: " It's no use hanging about
here. See those lights over there? There's bound to be a cafe of
sorts."
His arms dangling at his side, he followed her down the street.
She seemed to be thinking hard. Before coming to the place where
the lights were she halted for a moment.
" Fifty-fifty."
He understood at once and handed her the contents of one
pocket, about half the money he had stolen. She put the notes in
her bag.
" Oh, they're French notes," she remarked casually.
They came to a sleepy-looking cafe; the two billiard-tables at
which nobody was playing made the room seem emptier still. The
proprietor was seated by the window, chatting with a fat, redcheeked
man; his wife was knitting at the cash-desk.
" This'll do."
So homely was the atmosphere in the cafe, that it was like
breaking in on a family party. When they walked across the room