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OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

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THE LODGER 27<br />

and settled down behind a billiard-table, the proprietor heaved an<br />

audible sigh and rose lethargically from his chair,<br />

" What can I get you? "<br />

Sylvie ordered two coffees.<br />

From now on it was she who took command; both of them<br />

seemed to accept this as a matter of course. Elie was staring at the<br />

floor, on which sawdust lay in ripples like sand on a sea-beach.<br />

When Sylvie rose to her feet he looked up, but didn't ask what she<br />

was about to do. She went up to a rack on which were some<br />

newspapers rolled round strips of wood.<br />

The man served them in silence. The coffee fell drop by drop<br />

from the nickel-plated percolator resting on each cup. The<br />

apoplectic-looking customer blew his nose noisily.<br />

There was a rustle of paper as Sylvie turned a sheet of the<br />

newspaper she was reading. She looked up to say:<br />

" Put two lumps of sugar in my cup, please."<br />

He did so; then drank his coffee to keep himself in countenance.<br />

" Now—pay," she said.<br />

The proprietor was eyeing them from his seat by the window,<br />

obviously wondering why these two young people had dropped<br />

in at such an hour. Sylvie rose, and Elie followed her out. After<br />

halting on the pavement to take her bearings, she started off towards<br />

the central area.<br />

" Well? "<br />

" The guard gave your description, but he doesn't seem to have<br />

noticed much, except that you were wearing a yellow overcoat."<br />

And promptly Elie felt as if his overcoat were made of lead and<br />

looked anxiously round to make sure no one was watching him.<br />

" Another thing he said was that you'd a foreign accent—but<br />

he didn't say what sort of accent."<br />

As diey walked on, Elie transferred the notes, his handkerchief,,<br />

and a penknife from his overcoat pockets to those of his coat..<br />

Beside a fence running alongside a field used as a rubbish-dump hepaused<br />

and turned to Sylvie.<br />

" Here? "<br />

" No. If it's found they'll know you are in Brussels. You'd betterdrop<br />

it in the canal."<br />

" Where's that? "<br />

" Oh, quite a way from here."<br />

From time to time a tramcar sped by, packed with seated, stolid *<br />

figures, like museum-pieces in a show-case.

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