Players at the Game of People Read Online Free PDF

stratospheric prices . . . not, of course, that that could worry

him. But he gave it back to her almost at once with a shake of his head.

"I ate already," he muttered, and leaned back to savor the last of his

cigar.

She gave him an extremely puzzled look, but departed with another shrug,

and in a little while was seen to be talking with the headwaiter. Both

of them kept casting glances in his direction. Godwin ignored them, and

very shortly they were distracted as new customers arrived. Within half

an hour or so there were twenty people present and four young couples

were dancing under the randomly changing lights -- and above them. The

effect of the reflection from the ripples was colorful and imaginative;

he watched it most of the time he was sitting alone.

Now and then he was interrupted by the passage of one or other waiter or

waitress, each of whom greeted him cordially and hovered for a while,

clearly expecting him to place an order. As each in turn moved away

disappointed, they wore identical looks of perplexity.

It grew very warm in the room. One of the girls, who had come in with a

fat, father-old escort, took off her blouse and started dancing topless;

another, not to be outdone, peeled off her dress and danced in bikini

panties, barefooted. Both were young and quite attractive, and for

a while Godwin wondered whether he should be interested in them. But

neither seemed to show any sign of recognition.

It was not until nearly midnight -- by which time the place was crowded

and his table, in single occupation and with nothing on it but a

half-empty glass of Coke and a clean ashtray, formed the eye of a storm

of noise and shouting and feverish activity -- that the girl he was

expecting turned up.

Two young men, both apparently Arabs, both in impeccable dinner suits

incongruously combined with pale fawn headdresses bound with green silk

cords, entered ahead of two women: one plump and blond, about thirty,

and the other slim and brown-haired but with a streak of silver, very

much younger -- at most, eighteen. It was she who, glancing around,

spotted him and gave a nervous wave and smile behind her companions'

backs. She wore yellow satin pants, very tight, and a blue strapless top

held up by a ruched elastic insert. On the left of her neck, inexpertly

powdered over, there was a strawberry-colored bite mark. She looked tired

and ill at ease. But she smiled the instant she caught sight of Godwin,

and everything -- or almost everything -- became clear to him.

One table remained vacant, in a bad position well away from the

dance-floor, and the party was shown to it and at once supplied with

a bottle of whisky and a bowl of ice and a syphon of soda, along with

dishes of junk food of the kind Godwin had been resolutely refusing

since his arrival. Like alcohol, that was something he would only risk

in the security of home. He waited another couple of minutes until the

group settled down, then rose and approached them with his most leonine

strides. Thanks to Irma, his body tingled with vitality, and virtually

everyone in the place stared at him as he moved.

The girl started up from her chair in excitement, holding out her hand

to seize his as soon as he came in range.

"I'm so glad you're here!" she exclaimed. "Let me introduce my friends!

This is Rashad. This is Afif. This is Peggy. This is Godwin!"

He acknowledged them with a succession of cool nods, not letting go of

her hand. It was very clear from their expressions that neither Afif --

the older -- nor Rashad welcomed his intrusion. In fact both looked in

a thoroughly bad temper. He sensed storm warnings, but continued anyhow.

"Hello . . . I came over to ask if you'd like to dance with me."

Beautifully controlled, his voice lanced through the din.

"Yes, I'd love to! You will excuse me, won't you?" -- to Rashad,

who was clearly her partner for the evening, wherever it had begun.

"No," he said.

Startled, she stared at