She wandered into the lounge. One of the bombs had exploded in there. Furniture was scattered and broken. Glass from mirrors and windows lay on the floor. Plaster and dust covered everything with a coat of white. Opposite her, pinned by bayonets to the door, was the General. His head hung on his chest, and the front of his white uniform was blotched with blood. She put her hands to her face and ran blindly out of the room.
At that moment a small party of natives, bent on loot, came in from the garden. They closed in on her like a hungry pack of wolves, their hands seeking and their eyes maddened with lust for her. She was more aware of the overpowering reek of their bodies as they struggled round her than her own terror. She was conscious of thinking: “So he was wrong. I knew he was wrong. This couldn’t have been planned. God wouldn’t let this happen to me if He could stop it.”
One huge native managed to pull her away from the others and he tossed her across his back, threatening the others with the General’s revolver. He began edging away towards the stairs.
She said to herself: “He is only going to do what Lacey did. Only this time it will be more sincere. He won’t pretend that he is a beautiful man, and I shan’t pretend that Havana is the place of love.” She watched the floor move swiftly under big, black, naked feet. Dangling over his shoulder, almost upside down, she had a unique view of the hotel lounge. She found that she was laughing, because it was all rather funny. The group of natives huddled together, their eyes hungry and disappointed. All wanting her, but because this big one had the gun, they just had to stand back and do without.
She said to the black feet: “I know what you want. I am a woman of the world. I had to come to Havana to find out about it, but I know. I know exactly what you will do to me when you have got me alone. It won’t be long now.” Then she thought hopefully: “I wonder if I shall die tonight?”
Obviously no one will blame her for thinking and talking like this, as the accumulation of circumstances had been too much for her reason.
VIGIL
George came in around two o’clock. He stood just inside the little room with the door open behind him.
Alfy sat on the one chair in the room, close to the empty hearth. He sat very limply, with his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets. He didn’t look up when George came in. More than anything, he wanted to be alone. He didn’t have to pretend when he was alone. George made it difficult for him. It wouldn’t do to let George see that he couldn’t take it. Anyway, it was getting a little too much for him to pretend any more, even with George in the room.
George came in and shut the door. It wasn’t that George wanted to stay, he didn’t; but his conscience wouldn’t let him go. He sat on the edge of the table and fumbled for a cigarette. The scrape of the match on the box made Alfy turn his head a little.