More Deadly Than The Male

She was beginning to move towards Edgware Road. Now that that was settled, she seemed to have lost interest in him. She walked on as if he wasn't with her.

George tagged along behind. Of course he was excited. To have a girl like Cora in his room! He thought at least she would want to dance, or go to the pictures, or do something extravagant.

She suddenly stopped outside a snack bar.

 "Let's take something in with us," she said, looking at the appetizing show in the window. Without waiting for him to agree, she entered the shop.

"Two chicken sandwiches, two cheese sandwiches and two apples," she said to the white-coated attendant behind the counter.

George planked down a ten-shilling note while the attendant packed the sandwiches and apples in a cardboard container.

"How much?" Cora asked, ignoring George's money. "That'll be two and six, miss," the attendant said, looking first at her and then at George.

"Here you are," George said, pushing the note towards the attendant

Cora put down one shilling and threepence. "That's my share," she said shortly, and picked up the cardboard container.

"I say!" George protested. "This is my show." And he tried to give her back her money.

"Keep it," she said, turning towards the door. "I always pay for myself."

"You can't do that . . ." George said feebly, but she was already moving away, and by now had left the shop.

"The sort of girl I'd like to go out with," the attendant said wistfully. "Most of 'em take the linings from your pockets."

George, his face burning, snatched up his change and ran after Cora.

When he caught up with her, he said, "You really must let me pay . . ."

"Now shut up!" Cora said. "I never accept anything from any man. I'm independent, and if I'm going to see you again, the sooner you understand that the better."

If she was going to see him again! George stared at her hopefully. Did that mean . . .? He blinked. It must mean that. People just didn't say things like that if they didn't intend seeing you again.

"Well, if you really want to . . ." he said, not quite sure how he should react to such an ultimatum.

"I do!" she returned emphatically. "Now come on, don't stand there blocking the way."

"We'll want some beer," George said, falling in step beside her. "I suppose you want to pay for your bottle, too?" He said it half jokingly, and then looked at her quickly to see if he had caused offence.

She glanced at him. "I'm certainly going to pay for my own beer," she said. "Does that amuse you?"

And as he looked down at her, arrogant, small but durable, it happened. He found himself suddenly, utterly and completely in love with her. It was an overpowering feeling that stupefied him, made him water at the eyes, made him weak in the legs.

They looked at each other. Whether she saw the change in him, he wasn't sure. He felt she must be able to read his thoughts. She couldn't fail to see how completely crazy he was about her. If she did, she made no sign, but went on, her head a little higher, her chest arched.

They bought two bottles of beer at the off-licence at the corner of George's street. Then they went on to the boardinghouse.

"I'm afraid it isn't much," George muttered apologetically as he opened the front door. "But if you think you'll like it . . ." His voice died away as he glanced uneasily round the hall.

There was no one about. The sound of dishes clattering in the basement reassured him.

Cora went straight upstairs. She wasn't a fool, George thought. She knows I'm nervous about her being here. She's going straight up. There's no nonsense about her.

He eyed her slim hips as she went on ahead of him. She was beautiful. There was absolutely no doubt about it. Most women looked awful in trousers. They stuck out and they wobbled, but not Cora. She was hard, slim, neat.

So he was in love with her. And he was lucky, too. Not many men would be as fortunate as he. She wasn't going to run him into any expense. He knew what girls were like. Spend—spend—spend, all the time. They didn't think you loved them unless you continually spent money on them. But Cora wasn't like that. She was independent. "If I'm going to see you again . . ." It was the most wonderful evening of his life!

"Just one more flight," he said, as she glanced back over her shoulder. "And you turn to the right when you get to the top."

She stopped on the landing.

"In here," he said, passing her and opening the door. He stood aside to let her in.

"It's not much," he said again, seeing the room suddenly in a new light. It did somehow seem small and sordid. The wallpaper seemed more faded and the furniture shabbier. He wished that he had a bright, well-furnished room to offer her.

He saw Leo curled up on the bed.

"That's my cat . . ." he began.

Then Leo opened its eyes, took one scared look at Cora and was gone, streaking through the open doorway, sending a mat flying. They heard it rushing madly down the stairs.

George sighed. That hadn't happened for months.