Mr Hire's Engagement Read Online Free PDF

unfolded bath-wrap. She rubbed him down. Her breasts jumped at every movement, and touched his shoulder-blades. 'Been fighting?'
    She was referring to the sticking-plaster, as she went on rubbing, and then wiped her own chest, which had got wet. 'I did it shaving . . .' he said humbly.
    He was crimson, because of the rubbing and the heat. His legs were trembling from it, and now she was lying flat on her back on the settee with her knees drawn up. 'Come along.'
    He was about to obey, but his courage seemed to fail him, and he sat down on the edge of the settee. 'Not that. . .'
    'As you like.'
    She sat up and settled beside him, and first ran her hands over his chest muscles, which were well padded. As she did this she stared straight ahead of her, and inquired: 'You'll leave me the eau de Cologne?'
    He stuttered a feeble 'Yes', drooping his head and letting it slide over the woman's breast. He shut his eyes. In the corners of his mouth, right at the tips, there lurked the ghost of a smile and a hint of suffering.
     'Like that?'
    She wriggled a little because he was crushing her breast, and Mr. Hire's head followed her movement, like the head of a baby. After a time the woman got up, while he straightened himself with difficulty, shading his eyes.
    'Hurry up and get dressed.'
    She rolled up her wrap, twisted it round her hips like a loincloth, and went out in that guise, the pink nipples projecting aggressively from her naked breasts. Mr. Hire slowly put on his pants and trousers. Already there came a knock on the door.
    'Can I begin?'
    It was the servant girl with her dusters, a bucket and a brush. While he was dressing she washed the bath, wiped the tiles and changed the sheet on the cane-seated sofa.
    'Enjoyed yourself?'
    He made no reply, pulled out some small coins, and with his briefcase under his arm, went out by the way he had come, passing a Negro who was following another attendant.
    Out in the street he felt cold, unhealthily cold, because of the dampness that had penetrated his whole body. Shadows were still prowling along by the fence; maybe men hesitating to go in, maybe police from the vice squad?
    In the last street before the lights, scarcely fifty yards from the shops, a couple were leaning against a door, so closely entwined, with the milk-white patch of their indistinguishable faces, that one could almost taste the kiss they were exchanging. The girl wore a white overall. She must have come from a butcher's shop or a dairy.
    It was eight o'clock. Mr. Hire arrived once more at the Porte d'Italie and was on the point of making for the waiting tram. An accordéon was playing in a bar. Three lads with red paper flowers in their buttonholes jostled him.
    He walked to a restaurant and had dinner, at a table by himself, choosing sweet and sugary dishes. All the same, he ate hardly anything. At half-past nine he was outside again, and, down a side street, he stopped in front of a small hotel.
    He was still pondering, and all this thought had given him an uneasy expression, and a tendency to jump in alarm when anyone suddenly went by, when a car hooted, or a girl brushed past him.
    He returned to the Avenue d'Italie. Most of the shops were shut, but there was as much light as ever, and right at the far end, in the Place, the lamps of a roundabout could be seen revolving against a background of sky.
    Once, as a passer-by knocked into him, Mr. Hire dropped his briefcase and had to stoop down and pick it up. He straightened himself again with a sigh of weariness and thereupon made for the tram; saw that his usual seat was occupied, and remained standing on the platform.
    He got off at the Villejuif terminus at a quarter-past ten. The crossroads was deserted. There was nobody to be seen except in the two cafés, and the cars ran by along the shiny surface without stopping.
    The door of the house was shut. He rang. The concierge worked the release for the door and turned on the light. He went past the lodge without