More Deadly Than The Male

He watched her go, then he turned and stumbled hack to the taxi. People were kinds he thought. He would never have believed it. Never! To think that a girl like that, so rich, who had everything, should have been so damned decent, especially after the fright he had given her. It was terrific of her! It really was marvellous.

Driving back across the Heath, George had this girl Babs more in his mind than Cora. Cora had never been kind to him. She had always jeered at him. Babs was the only girl who had ever been decent to him except, of course, Gladys; but Gladys didn't count. It was her job to be decent to everyone. But Babs—why, she could have called the police, she could have trapped him easily enough; but instead, she had given him the impossible. She had done more for him—a complete stranger—than Cora would ever do for him, even though Cora knew he loved her.

He wouldn't wait for the morning, he decided. He would go into her bedroom and wake her up and lay the clothes on the bed for her to admire. He would stand over her and grin. It was something to grin about, wasn't it? "You cheap bluffer!" she had called him. Well, this would show her whether he was a bluffer or not.

A sudden stab of desire caught him. She might be so pleased that—well, it was no good thinking along those lines just yet. But she might feel that she could be nice to him. She might be very nice to him After all, few people would have done what he had done. He wouldn't tell her about Babs. He'd just say he kidnapped a girl and stripped her of her clothes. That'd startle her. That'd show her he had guts!

He was so excited at the thought of bursting into Cora's room that he threw caution to the wind and drove right through the West End to Hanover Square. There was no difficulty in leaving the cab on the cab rank there. It was nearly one o'clock and the Square was deserted. He hurried down George Street, across Conduit Street and into Clifford Street. He ran up the stairs to the top flat. There was a light on in the hall, and he could hear Eva's voice coming from the sitting-room. A moment later, Little Ernie answered. He wondered if Cora was with then; then he remembered she said she was going to bed. Well, he'd look in her bedroom first. He went down the passage very quietly, and opened the door. The room was in darkness, but the heady, exciting smell of sandalwood greeted him.

"Cora?" he called softly. "Are you awake?"

"Who is it?" Cora's voice asked sleepily, then she said more sharply, "What is it?"

"It's me, George."

"What do you want?" She sounded irritable, and a moment later she snapped on a light over her bed.

George looked at her, feeling a great rush of love and tenderness to his heart.

She's wonderful, he thought, looking at her. She was wearing a pair of satin, peach-coloured pyjamas he guessed she must have borrowed from Eva.

"What is it?" she repeated, looking at her wristwatch. "Why, it's after one. Haven't you been to bed?"

"May I come in?" -George asked, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. "I've got a surprise for you."

Instantly a quick, calculating expression jumped into her eyes. "A surprise? What is it?"

"I've got you some clothes," George said, showing her the bundle. Now he was in the light he saw that Babs had put the clothes in a pillowcase.

"Are you mad?" she said blankly. "What clothes?"

"You wanted an outfit," George said patiently. "I—I've got you one."

Cora sat up in bed. "You've got me one?" she repeated.

It was just as George had hoped it would be. He had staggered her. She was excited. She had never looked at him like this before.

He nodded. "I said you had only to ask and I'd get it for you."

"But how?" Cora demanded. "Don't stand there like a dummy. Come in, shut the door." She slid out of bed, now thoroughly awake and excited. "How did you do it?"

This was George's moment. This was the sweetest moment in George's life.

"Well, it wanted a bit of thinking out," he said, coming into the room and shutting the door. "I couldn't rob a store. I hadn't any money. So I decided to take the clothes off someone about your size."

Cora gaped at him—actually gaped at him! "You didn't!" she exclaimed. George nodded. Tears of elation pricked his eyes. "I had to pinch a taxi. That wasn't too easy, and then I cruised around the West End until I spotted a well-dressed girl. I offered her a lift. She lived in Hampstead somewhere and—and I took her up on the Heath and made her take her clothes off and—well, here I am."

"George!" Cora gasped. "I don't believe it." But she believed it all right; he could see the look of startled admiration in her eyes.

"You did that for me?" she said, jumping up. "Why, George! Why, it's wonderful!"

For a moment he thought she was going to throw her arms round his neck, but instead, she ran past him to the door and threw it open.

"Eva! Ernie! Come here! Come here at once!"