The room was shabby and not over−clean. The strip of carpet that lay on the floor was threadbare, and from where he was sitting he could see a small stack of soiled underclothes behind an easy−chair.
While he sat there she took off her dress by just pulling a zipper and stepping out of it. Underneath she wore a pair of pink step−ins and a brassiere. She swayed a little before him, turning this way and that, so he could see her. Then she said, “My present?” Her hard face lighted up with a glittering smile.
Raven put his hand in his pocket and offered her a twenty−dollar bill. It was all the money he had in the world. The amount took her breath away. She clutched at the bill and stood staring at it. “Migod, you’re cute!” she said. “Gee! I’ll give you a good time for this.”
The bill disappeared into the top of her stocking, and she hurriedly stripped down to her suspender−belt.
She said, coming round the bed, “Come on, darlin’, come on.”
He said, “Don’t be in such a hurry. Put on a wrap or somethin’. I want to talk to you.”
He saw her go a little limp. “Aw, come on, darlin’. We can talk afterwards.”
“No.”
She hesitated, then, shrugging, crossed the room and took a dark red silk wrap off the door−peg.
Raven, sitting in the chair, looked at her indifferently. He noticed she had a little roll of fat above her hip bones, and he thought her buttocks looked ridiculous framed in the soiled suspender−girdle. A dame had got to be good just wearing a girdle, stockings and shoes. This whore wasn’t so hot.