In Larry’s old Cadillac sedan, she sat in the backseat as Larry drove and Cathy sat beside him. He swore when I tried to get it out with the ladle, and told me what it said. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. She fought him with tooth and nail. Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s name. "Suppose he does. He's passed through some rough mental torture. And they pay her. ” He said cruelly as she gazed at him in fear.
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