Helga lifted her hand from his arm, looked at him, then made a pass with the hand in front of his face. He did not blink.
“I heard you,” he said.
“Will you hear me if I ask you to buy me a drink?”
The faintest of sighs escaped his slightly parted lips and his eyes finally came to rest upon her.
“Yes,” he said.
She gestured to the bartender, who was watching. He began to pour into a champagne glass.
“You’re not drunk,” she said to the captain.
“I’d like to be,” he replied.
The bartender brought the champagne glass to her. She picked it up. “Well, shall we get drunk?”
“You can’t — on ginger ale.”
“You’re paying for champagne.”
“But you’re not drinking champagne.”
“Look, Buster,” she said, “or Captain Buster, if you like that better, you know what this place is?”
“I could make an awfully good guess.”
“Let’s go on from there. You came here for one reason only. For someone like me.”
He nodded. “But you just refused the colonel.”
“I haven’t refused you.”
She sipped a little ginger ale, looking at him over the glass. Then she said, “I cost fifty dollars, Captain. I hope you’ve got it.”
His eyes narrowed a little. “I have.”
“But you don’t think I’m worth it? Well, look at me, look at me good!”
He appraised her thoughtfully, unemotionally, and she did not like it.
“I get all the screwballs,” she said angrily and set down the glass.
His hand reached out and touched her arm. “All right.”
“You’re sure you can spare the money?”
He said, “Where do we go?”
She searched his face, then suddenly inclined her head in assent. He stepped down from the bar stool and followed her. She went through a door, down a carpeted corridor, then up a staircase, heavily carpeted in a flowery rose pattern.
On the third floor she looked over her shoulder to make sure he was still following and then continued on to the last room on the right. She opened the door and switched on the light inside.
He followed her into the room. She did not notice that he was breathing heavily — and that his face was oddly pale.
It was an attractively furnished room, the bed the chief piece of furniture. There was no spread on it. The covering was a plain sheet turned down. A bathroom was beyond the bed. The door was open.
There were many books in the room, scattered about, piled high on a dresser. There were two fairly high stacks of them in the closet.
She closed the door, shooting the bolt.
He reached into his pocket and brought out a thick packet of bills, which he handed to her. She riffled the bills.
“There’s a lot of money here, Captain.”
“Back pay.”
“Where’ve you been — marooned on a desert island?” She extracted a bill from the packet, stepped to the dresser and dropped the bill on it. Then she turned and gave him back the rest of his money. “Did you hand me this — so I would see how much you had and try for more than the fifty?”
“Let’s go back,” he suggested, “to when you put your hand on my arm downstairs. You wanted to get rid of the colonel, but the way you touched my arm — well, it felt as if you were claiming me.”
She bristled. “He was drunk. Don’t make any more out of it than that.”
“That was the only difference — I was sober?”
She looked at him a moment. “No,” she said, “I saw you when I came in. I liked your looks. Shall I take off my dress?”
“Yes, although it’s a very attractive dress. It looks extremely well on you and you fill it very nicely.” He took her arm and pulled her closer to him.
She did not resist, but did not come willingly. “The price doesn’t include romance. Just — business.”
He released her. “Sorry.”
She reached behind her back, pulled down the zipper and slipped the dress off. She stepped out of it, got a hanger and hung up the dress on the back of the open closet door.
She came back to him. She wore a silken slip but it was obvious that she did not have on a brassiere or panties. Her breasts were beautifully round, in spite of the slenderness of her body.
He said, “You’re a very beautiful woman — girl.”
“I’m a woman.”
“You’re probably all of twenty-one.”
“Twenty-two. And you’re about three years older than I am.”
He nodded.
She went on: “You’re really not very good at this, are you? I guess I should help you.” She came in to him, put her arms about him and raised her face to his. “I shouldn’t have said that — about romance. You can — if you want to.”
He put his arms about her loosely. “Is there a time limit for the fifty dollars?”
She moved away from him, stared into his eyes. A faint glow of color appeared in her cheeks. “Captain, you’re not a—?” She did not use the word.
He shook his head. “I’m tired. I didn’t realize just how tired. Would you mind if I just sat down awhile — and looked at you?”
“I really pick them!” She moved back to the bed and seated herself on the edge of it. “Look... look, fifty dollars’ worth.”
He dropped heavily into the armchair, facing her and stretched out his legs. “I’ve been sick.”
“I should have known! Your color—”
“I’m still in the hospital.”
She frowned. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t—”
“I’m not that sick. I would like to. After a while.”
She got up. “Why don’t you lie down here?”
He thought it over for a moment, then got up. He started to unbutton his jacket. She helped him. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his khaki shirt. Then he sat down and slipped off his shoes.
He stretched out on the bed. She looked down at him a moment, then pulled the chair closer to the bed and seated herself. He turned his head so he could see her.
She said, “It’s all right, Captain. Don’t worry about it and — don’t feel ashamed. It... it doesn’t bother me to have you look. You’re rather nice to look at yourself.” She studied him a moment. “Your eyes — they’ve got the look of an eagle in them — the fierceness of an eagle, the defiance, and yet there’s a loneliness, too. I guess an eagle has that loneliness when he looks down from his eyrie.”
“Would you mind,” he said, “lying down beside me?”
She hesitated, then got up. “I think I would like it.”
He moved over a few inches and she stretched out beside him.
He said, “Perhaps there’s some of that eagle in you.”
“The loneliness?”
His left hand moved a little at the same time that her right hand moved. The hands touched — and stopped. He was very much aware of her proximity and she was of his.
His hand closed over hers. She did not try to pull away. They lay absolutely still for a long moment, then his face turned toward hers. She turned her face to his and they looked into each other’s eyes.
There was the tiniest spontaneous hand pressure from each — and his free hand came up, went behind her shoulders. He pulled her to him and their faces touched. She averted her mouth, but she did not try to draw away from him.
He asked, very gently, “You... you don’t mind?”
She replied by kissing him. Her lips were very warm and soft and she did not withdraw them too quickly. Then she said, in a very low tone, “Would you like to take off your clothes? You — you might be more comfortable.”
He kissed her and sat up. He slipped off his olive drab trousers, tossed them over her to the chair. He dropped back.
“What about your shirt?”