CHAPTER XVIII

"Oh, it's you," o Shan said.
He had knocked over a bottle when he walked in It rolled away clattering across the floor- The room was dark and, he now noticed, smelled of brandy.
"Aren't you up yet?" he said.
"Pull the curtains back," she yawned. "Though maybe I shouldn't order you about like this - you're such a rare guest now."
He did not answer. It felt funny to draw the curtains and let in grey twilight- The room was not much brighter than before, but he could see her better now- She slept in her underwear like most Chinese- Her pink stocking-net singlet was badly torn- She was half sitting up, leaning on an elbow looking at him, her blanket pushed down to her waist- One of her breasts hung out of a hole in the frayed pink web.
Liu took off his can and put it on the table. "I want to talk to you," he said without turning round. "About us. I'm awfully sorry. Really I am."

"What for?" she said smiling- "It's all a matter of Inclination- When I think of you, I phone you. When you think of me you come and see me. That's all there is to it."
"I came to talk to you," he hastened to correct her. "All right, let's talk. Who's stopping you? Come sit over here."
He eyed the indicated spot on the edge of her bed with some nervousness. "Aren't you getting up?"
"Yes, but when I'm up_ I've got to run- I haven't got all day-"
He leaned on the windowsill looking down into the :alley. It was autumn now. Already there was a frosty note in the peddlers' calls in the dusk and. in the shouting and thrilled, frightened laughter of children chasing each other-
"What're you looking so miserable for?" Ko• Shan :said- "Quarreled with your Comrade Su .or something?" He smiled slightly.
"Was she suspicious?" she asked- "That day at the exhibition."
"No, she didn't guess anything-" When Liu turned round to- speak to her he preferred to look into the- wardrobe mirror facing her bed. Some clothes thrown over the back of a chair happened to block off part of her reflection, -showing little more than her head The mirror's surface was the only bright thing in the room-
"Some women are dumb," Ko Shan said with some annoyance- Then Liu saw the shadow of a second thought ,cross her face, and he knew that she was thinking the :same thing as he did, that Su Nan had not suspected be--cause Ko Shan was much older than he. She turned and glanced quickly at herself in the mirror. For a moment she looked like somebody who had seen a ghost peering in at a window. The next minute she had sat up and snatched the clothes off the chair back which had modestly screened her from the neck down. Her nakedness flashed palely in the mirror. She looked at herself again with. evident satisfaction and started to dress, but very slowly.
Liu said, resolutely keeping his eyes on her face, "But it's got nothing to do with her — you see that, don't you? Her being here or not makes no difference. It was all over between us before she came-"
She glanced at him. "Oh, you mean we had a quarrel," she said smiling.
"No, it's not that." Then he said, "No use going into. that now."
"You don't look so happy," she said, looking at him. "What's wrong? How far have you gone with her?"
He flushed with sudden anger. "We're pure." He- felt-bitterly sorry toward Su Nan for subjecting her to this-Outrage-
"Don't lie," Ko Shan said half laughing. "A year ago,. maybe. But you're getting to be so bad now, you're not going to be such a fool as that. I happen to know how bad you are." The provocatively plaintive note had entered her voice and she half glared at him from the corner of her eyes.
He was so angry he could not speak. He hated her: because what she said about him was true. He did want Su so badly. He was angry with himself for his waving, and with Su Nan too for making it impossible for him ever to tell her any of this-
Bo Shan stood 110, stepping into her shoes. All she had on was the dark serge jacket of her uniform. The pale legs looked helpless, the way the frail ankles came out of the heavy black walking shoes with shoelaces trailing on the floor. She came and leaned against him.
"We're through," he said.
"Are we?" she laughed softly, nuzzling him. "Are

we? I didn't know-"
Between him and the cool plumpness of her bare thighs there were his serge trousers, feeling now like the dull grey veil of sleep that gives the best of dreams a kind of gloved feeling — frustratingly vague and not quite real- Struggling against that feeling he put his hand on her leg. The breath of autumn was cold on her thigh. And his hand was there, as inevitable and certain and reassuring as the return of the seasons.
"Don't you ever think of me, sometimes?" she whispered.
He would never be able to break things off if he were to give in now. It would not be fair to her either, using her as a whore when he was yearning for someone else he could not have- Though probably she wouldn't mind- His hand passed from the delicious coolness into the mild warmth under her loose jacket, sliding up the incurving waist along her back, heavy-hearted, lingering.
Then he broke away abruptly- "No." He hesitated a moment, thinking of going. "But I've got to explain to you before I go," he said.
"There's no need to, I told you." She turned away disgustedly. "A man might talk himself into a woman, but he can't talk himself out of her. You bribe your way out or just walk out. Talking won't do you any good-" She picked up his cap from the table and held it out to him as she went on talking loud and fast- "Unless you're hoping to make a big enough bore of yourself so I'll drop you. As if I wasn't fed up enough as it is - you and your crazy fits and your jealous tantrums!"
He did not take the cap quick enough. She had already lost patience and just tossed it out the window. "Now quick! Get it!" she said laughing, in the tone people use when they tell a dog to fetch back a twig.
The cap fell out of sight suddenly; watching it Liu

felt his insides sank as if he was in an elevator going down too fast. Then he was walking in the alley picking it up from the dry gutter.
Perhaps at the end of anything there was a little of that end-of-the-world feeling. He did not know about her, except that she was very angry. That he knew. Dully he clung to the thought, not necessarily because it soothed his ego. It was the one clearly formed feeling that cut through the crumpled, soiled tangle in him, dirty clothes stuffed into a bursting trunk.