He got out a fifty-dollar bill and put it on the table as he stood up.
He saw an expression of hastily concealed amazement flicker across the fat woman’s face. Then she rose to her feet bowing and smiling. She was clearly delighted. If her dignity had permitted it she would have picked up the bill to have a closer look. She pressed them to have more wine.
When, eventually, they were able to bow themselves out of the shop, George turned to Miss Kolin. “You’d better tell her not to mention that fifty dollars to Monsieur Kliris,” he said; “I shan’t mention it to the Captain. With any luck she may get paid twice.”
Miss Kolin was on her sixth after-dinner brandy, and her eyes were glazing rapidly. She was sitting very straight in her chair. At any moment now she would decide that it was time for her to go to bed. The Captain had long since departed. He had had the air of a man of whose good nature unfair advantage had been taken. However, he had not refused the hundred dollars George had offered him. Presumably he was now celebrating the occasion with his mistress. For George, there was nothing more to be done in Florina.
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning, Miss Kolin,” he said. “Train to Salonika. Plane to Athens. Plane to Paris. All right?”
“You have definitely decided?”
“Can you think of one reason for going on with the thing?”
“I never had any doubt that the man was dead.”
“No, that’s right, you didn’t. Going to bed now?”
“I think so, yes. Good night, Mr. Carey.”