The tone of his voice startled her, and something of his urgency infused her with panic. She fumbled with her key, jabbing at the keyhole unsuccessfully.
With an obscene word on his lips, he snatched the key from her fingers and opened the door. He put his hand on her shoulders and shoved her inside, stepping in behind her and closing the door softly. He could feel the cold sweat under his arms.
She said a little angrily, “Why did you do that?”
“Put a light on.”
He could hear her fumbling along the wall, and then the passage was swamped with a bright hard light. He said, “Well, go on. Don’t stand there.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know about you. There’s something I don’t like about you.”
He pushed his hat to the back of his head and looked her full in the face. They looked at each other for a long minute.
“Do you always yap like this?” he snarled at her. “Take me to your room.”
They went upstairs. He followed her closely. As she went up before him he could see how her hips rolled as she lifted her feet. The professional skirt was so tight across her hips he could see where her suspender belt ended and where the little knobs of the suspenders caught her stockings.
They went up three flights in silence. Then she stopped and opened a door. He caught a glimpse of a little brass plate on the door as he entered a box−like hallway. He closed the door behind him. She took him into the bedroom.