with a nice figure. She looked a lot more lively than the others, and in a mild way was trying to catch the eyes of the guys who every now and then walked along to find a new partner.
The Jew knew that this particular dance?hall always had a lot more girls than partners. It was a happy ?hunting?ground for him. He got languidly to his feet and walked over to the line. He made straight for the girl he had selected.
He said in a soft voice, “I'd like a dance if you'll give me one.”
She got up at once. “Sure,” she said. She knew he was a Jew, but he was tall and handsome. She didn't mind.
They danced in silence. He knew his stuff and she thought he was a swell dancer. When the band cut out he took her back to her seat. He was satisfied she was the right type.
“That was grand,” he said. “I'd like another later.”
He went out almost immediately and signalled to a car, parked across the road. Then he went back to the hall. The band had started playing again, and he saw she was dancing with a little guy who kept tripping over her feet.
He sat down at the table. He was used to waiting. At last the dance finished and she went back to her seat.
When the short interval was over he got up and went across to her quickly. She saw him coming and got up with a smile. That was what he wanted. She was already getting used to him.
As he swung her through the crowd he hummed the melody the band was playing. He could sing.
She said, “Nice voice.”
“Nice girl,” he returned, smiling.
She laughed a little. “You don't mean that, do you?”
“Sure. You're so nice I can't believe you're here on your own.”
She pouted a little. “I haven't got a regular boy.”
“Then I'm lucky,” he said.
“Don't be smart.”
“When this dance's over, will you have somethin' to drink?”
She shook her head. “I don't.”
“Well, come and watch me.”
She didn't say anything, and the Jew grinned to himself. He was pretty experienced. This was going to be a push?over.
The band ceased abruptly, and he led her back to his table. They sat down together.
“I bet your Pa doesn't know you're out,” he said, offering her a cigarette.
She giggled. “How did you know? Pa hates me dancing. I sneak out once a week. Even Ma thinks I'm in bed.”
The Jew smiled. “You're a bad girl. I ought to take you home.”
They both laughed. A waiter came and hovered near them. “Come on, have a beer,” the Jew said. “It's from the ice here, and it's swell.”
She said, “Just one, then, but I don't usually drink with strangers.”
The Jew gave the order to the waiter. “You're quite right,” he said. “A nice?lookin' girl like you can't be too careful.” He put his fingers into his vest pocket and took out a little white pill. He kept the pill between his first and second fingers. The girl didn't notice anything.
When the waiter brought the drinks the Jew pointed suddenly behind the girl. “Who's that guy?” he asked.
His hand hovered over her glass as she turned her head, and the pill slid into the liquid.
She shook her head. “I don't know. Why?”
“I've seen him about a lot. Wondered who he was. Quite a guy, ain't he?”
She turned back to the beer. It looked very inviting. He raised his glass. “Hey, beautiful,” he said with a flourish.
They both drank deeply. She shuddered when she put the glass down. “It's horrid stuff,” she said.
He laughed. “Beer's an acquired taste, baby; you'll grow to love it.” He pushed back his chair. “Come on, let's dance.”
Halfway across the room she lost time. He changed step and steered her towards the exit. She suddenly grew very heavy and her hands clutched at his arms.
“I'm goin' to faint,” she said in a far?away voice. “Get me out of here.”
He was already leading her to the door. One of his arms was round her waist and he had to support her. No one noticed anything wrong. When they got out into the open she collapsed and sank down on her knees.
The closed car swung across the road and one of the doors opened.
The Jew picked her up and shoved her hastily into the car. The door slammed and the car drove away very fast.
The Jew watched the tail?light disappear and then he went back to the dance?hall. It was easy. He sat down at the table again and took out a little note?book. He made an entry. Then he put the note?book away and sat back, his eyes once more searching the line of girls waiting for partners.
7
RAVEN OPENED his eyes. He had a knack of being instantly awake after a heavy sleep. He never struggled back into consciousness. One moment he was asleep, then next he was fully awake. He stared up at the ornate ceiling, feeling the soft comfort of the bed under him.
Three months ago he had been a bum. Now he was powerful, rich and feared, but he was smart enough to know it couldn't last. Some time someone would squeal, and he'd have to go into hiding. It would be different now. He had money banked in several banks under different names. He had a lot of money in the apartment.
He could skip to Europe if necessary. That sent his thoughts in another direction. Why not skip out while the going was good? Grantham could run this racket now he'd got it started. He could go to France or to the Argentine. There was a lot of scope there for a guy with his brains.
He turned and looked at Sadie, who was sleeping by his side. He was pleased with her. She'd got class, she was a looker, and she didn't make trouble. He'd tamed her all right.
He leant upon his elbow and studied her thoughtfully. She had little dark smudges under her eyes and her mouth was a little slack. Still, she was a looker for all that. She'd last for another couple of months, then he'd send her back to one of his houses and find someone else. His hand groped for the bell, and he rang it. Then he climbed out of the bed and went into the bathroom. By the time he'd shaved breakfast had been brought in.
Sadie woke up. She yawned and stretched her long white arms. Raven poured himself out a cup of coffee.
“Do you want some?” he said.
“Might as well,” she said listlessly, climbing out of bed. She struggled into a wrap and went off to the bathroom.
Raven glanced through the paper and then chucked it on one side. He found a pile of letters on the tray and began to glance through them. Most of them were for bills. They were all addressed to J. J. Cruise, the name he had adopted when he moved into the St. Louis Hotel. The last envelope was bulky and it contained a catalogue of trains. He was reading this carefully when Sadie came back.
She poured out some coffee and sat watching him indifferently. A great change had taken place since she had gone away with O'Hara. She knew it herself. She could no longer struggle against this man. He had proved himself so utterly ruthless and hateful that her resistance had been completely shattered. She no longer lived. She sat about waiting to obey his commands. Her terror for him had long burnt itself out. It was just a matter of automatically complying with his wishes. She found that if she did what she was told he was bearable. They went out together, lived together and slept together. She had no animation, but he seemed satisfied with being seen
