‘Get out!’ he said, giving her a feeble push. ‘Tel them I’m here. They won’t do anything to you if you tell them I’m here. Go on, get out.’
She went to the door, unlocked it and opened it. A shaft of light came in from the passage, and he saw her plainly for the first time.
He had only a quick glimpse of her. He saw the long, sensitive face, the wide, dark eyes and the firm, bitter mouth of a girl who was good-looking rather than beautiful: a girl of about twenty-three or four, whose young-old face had a force of character that had come from a life of hardship, poverty and sorrow.
She was wearing a white slip that clung to her thin but beautifully proportioned body, no stockings, and her narrow, long feet were thrust into a shabby pair of heelless slippers.
He watched her go out on to the landing, leaving the door ajar. From where he stood he could see through the opening without being seen.
A buzz of voices drifted up from the ground floor: men’s voices, and a woman’s voice screaming hysterically.
More hammering sounded on the front door. Then a hard, loud voice bawled, ‘Okay, okay, break it up! Get back to your rooms and stay in them. Hey, you! Seen a big guy in a brown suit around? He’l be a stranger, and he’s wounded. Come on, now! Open up! The guy’s a kil er!’
Baird ached to lie down on the bed again. The pain in his side was torturing him, and his legs began to sag. He pulled himself together, pressing his shoulders against the wall, his lips coming off his teeth in a snarl.
He watched the girl lean over the banister rail.
‘Toni! Toni!’ she cal ed sharply. ‘What’s happening?’