She stole up to Philippina’s couch of repose, step by step, without making the slightest noise, bent down, stretched out her arm, groped around over the body of the inexplicable creature who was sleeping there, and was on the point of raising the covers and reaching for Philippina’s breast. Philippina ceased snoring, woke up as if she had been struck in the face by the rays of a magic lantern, opened her eyes, and looked at Dorothea with a speechless threat. Not a muscle of her face moved.
Dorothea collected her thoughts instantly. With the expression on her face of one who has just succeeded in carrying out some good joke, she threw her whole body on Philippina and pressed her face to her cheek, nauseated though she was by the stench of her breath and the bed clothes.
“Listen, Philippina, the American wants to give you something,” she whispered.
“Jesus, you’re punching my belly in,” replied Philippina, and gasped for breath. When Dorothea had straightened up, she said: “Well, has he already given you something? That’s the main thing.”
“He gave me the feathers. Isn’t that something?” replied Dorothea, “and he is going to give me a set of rubies.”
“I wish you already had ’em. It seems to me that your American don’t exactly hail from Givetown. I’ve been told that he ain’t so damn rich after all. When are you goin’ to meet him again, your lover?”
“To-morrow evening, between six and seven. Oh, I am so glad, so glad, Philippina. He is so young.”
“Yes, young! That’s a lot, ain’t it?” murmured Philippina contemptuously.
“He has such a pretty mole on his neck, way down on his neck, down there,” she said, pointing to the same spot on Philippina’s neck. “Right there! Does it tickle you? Does it make you feel good?”
“Don’t laugh so loud, you’ll waken little Gottfried,” said Philippina in a testy, morose tone. “And get out of here! I’m sleepy.”