The tall, thin man looked over his shoulder. “You’re quite remarkable,” he said, and beckoned to the girl who stood just inside the doorway.
She came across slowly. Manuel watched her, without appearing to. During his stay at the ‘Roney Plaza’ he had seen so many women that his standard of what was good had become exceedingly high. This girl was interesting. She was interesting in a ripe sort of a way. She had a lazy, sensuous walk, and her big blue eyes looked sleepy. Her mouth was wide and very red. She wore a black dress that emphasized her breasts and hips without being tight on her body. Manuel thought she looked like a very beautiful genteel whore.
She said to the tall, thin man, “Hello, Harry.”
He got off the stool and touched her fingers. There was a tense eager tightening of his face muscles.
“Come and have a drink,” he said. “Do you like these stools, or would you rather sit at a table?”
She gave her answer by climbing up and perching herself on the stool.
He said, “You’re looking very, very beautiful.”
“Every time we meet you tell me that. Is it for something to say, or do you feel so strongly about it?”
He climbed up on the stool beside her. “I want to talk to you.”
“Can’t I have something to drink? Is it so urgent that I can’t be asked what I should like?”