OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

THE LODGER 43
the house. Of course I saw at once you were different, a quiet sort
of fellow. Still, I can't understand a sensible man like you getting
mixed up in politics. It don't seem natural/'
For, when asking her not to report his presence to the police,
he had told her he'd been banished from his country because of his
political activities.
" Who's the big man in Turkey? A king? A president ?"''
" Neither. A dictator."
He smiled. He was aching in every limb, but, strangely enough,
the sensation was more agreeable than otherwise—almost voluptuous.
The warmth and intimacy of this humble little kitchen were
acting like an anodyne on his jaded nerves.
Now and again he caught Antoinette gazing at him in a curiously
rapt manner, and this added to his satisfaction; there was no doubt
he'd made a strong impression on her. Not altogether a favourable
impression, judging by what he saw in her eyes. It was more like
a vague mistrust; as if she, unlike the others, was intelligent enough
to realize he had no business in such a house as this. But it proved
one thing, anyhow: that she was definitely interested in him—
perhaps afraid of becoming too much interested.
He couldn't bring himself to move. The table had been cleared
and spread with a blue-and-white check oilcloth. Seated beside the
range, Madame Baron was peeling potatoes for the next day's meals,
while Antoinette darned socks; Domb's or Valesco's probably.
" I can't abide people who turn up their noses at everybody else,
as if they were the lords of creation," Madame Baron remarked.
" Most of the Poles I have here are like that." She turned to her
husband. " Germain, why don't you offer Monsieur Elie a little
drink? "
He jumped up hastily and took a bottle of sloe-gin from the
cupboard.
" Tell me what you thjnk of it. It comes from Luxembourg;
I'm on duty on the train there once a week."
The liqueur gave off a heady fragrance. The smell of pipe-smoke
mingled in the air with the subtler smell of Turkish cigarettes. Now
and again they heard Moise's footsteps in the room above.
" He sometimes works thirteen or fourteen hours in the day. He
has a letter from his mother once a week, and, would you believe it,
she has to get a neighbour to write it for her! Fancy there being
folk in these days who don't know how to write! "
The good lady seemed capable of rambling on like this for hours,