The boy hated her with all his vicious little soul. He said, “Put out that lamp.”
Therese took the hem of her skirt and raised it over her hips. She was naked under the dress. The boy felt the blood surge into his face. He shifted his eyes, feeling revolted and frightened. Therese had quite a nice little body, but the proximity of any woman nauseated him.
Therese stared at him. “What’s the matter with you,” she said sharply, letting her skirt fall, “don’t you like me anymore?”
The boy wanted to scream that she was the filthiest thing he’d ever seen, but he stopped himself in time. Outside, the soldiers were looking for him. With Therese he was safe for a little while. He must not risk anything.
He said: “I’m all right. The lamp worries me—that’s all.”
Therese held out her hand. “It’s cash, honey. That’s the way I run my business.”
The boy hated parting with the money. He hated parting with his money almost as much as he hated being shut in with this whore. The money was buying him safety and he pushed the crumpled bills across the table. Therese scooped them up and shoved them down the top of her stocking.
“There,” she said, “now you can have the lamp out.” She leant forward and blew sharply down the glass funnel. As she leant forward, her breasts swung against the thin cotton of her dress. The boy stepped back. He thought, “In another minute she will be coming to me.” He blundered across the room to the window and drew the curtain aside.
Therese said: “What’s up with you, honey? Don’t you feel well?”
The boy didn’t hear her. He was looking on to the dark square. Three soldiers were standing in the shadows. Now and then one of them moved, and the moonlight glinted on a naked bayonet. He hastily dropped the curtain and stepped back. His hot hands touched Therese’s bare arm, and he jerked away.