She turned aside, clasped her knees with her arms, now softly reddening, threw her head back and stared motionless at the ceiling from the dusky hollows of her unblinking eyes. And in her teeth, tightly pressed, there hung a cigarette, half smoked, cold, dead.
Something had happened, something unexpected and terrible, something considerable and of consequence, whilst he was sleeping—this much he understood at a flash, even before he was properly awake, at the first sound of a harsh, unknown voice. He took it in with that sharpened sense of danger which to him and his comrades had developed almost into a new special sense. He was up quickly and sat with his hand pressing his revolver hard, his eyes searchingly and sharply exploring the mist of the room. And when he saw her, in the same attitude, with her shoulders of that transparent rosy hue, and her bared breast, and those eyes so enigmatically dark and unswerving, he thought to himself: »She has betrayed me!« Then he looked again more steadily, sighed deeply, and corrected himself: »She hasn't yet, but she will.«
How miserable it all was!
He drew a deep breath and asked curtly: »Well, what is it?«
She said nothing. She smiled triumphantly and spitefully, looked at him and was silent,—as though she already accounted him her own, and without haste or hurry wanted to gloat over her power.
»What did you say just now?« he repeated, with a frown.
»What I said? I said, get up!—that's what I said. Get up! You 've been asleep. It's time to play the game. This isn't a doss-house, my dear!«
»Tum on the light,« he commanded.
»I will not.«