My heart began to hammer against my side as I saw
Gloria get out of the car. She was wearing a white strapless
evening gown and carried a fur coat on her arm.

She paid off the taxi, and while she was hunting in her
bag for her latch-key and before I could change my mind, I went quickly over to her.

At the sound of my footfalls she turned sharply.
“Hello, Gloria,” I said, my voice husky.
“Well, for goodness’ sake! What are you doing here at
this time of night?”
“I’m sorry to be so late, but I had to see you. It’s
important Gloria. Could I come in and talk to you?”
“But it’s nearly half-past one,” she returned, her eyes
looking at me from under their lashes. “You can’t come in
now.”
“It’s important.”
Suddenly she laughed.
“Oh, all right Harry. Come in. I bet this is a gag, but I’ll fall for it.”

She unlocked the door and together we entered the
small hall. She went past me up the stain and I followed her
into the big lounge.

She snapped on the lights and crossed over to the
radiogram and turned on some swing music, lowered the
sound so it was scarcely above a whisper.

“H.ell! I’m tired,” she said, dropping her fur coat on chair.
“Get me a drink, Harry. A whisky, and have one yourself.”
“I don’t want anything, thanks.”
“Of course you’ll have a whisky.”

She went to the bar, poured two large whiskies and
pushed one glass towards me. She drank half hers in one
thirsty swallow.
“I don’t know why I’m talking to you,” she said, setting
down the glass. “After the way you stood me up the other
night.”
“I’m sorry about that. My wife . . .”

“For heaven’s sake don’t start making excuses,” she said
and laughed. “I guessed your wife found out. It’s amazing how wives do find out isn’t it? Never mind; it’s just one of those things.”
“There’s something I must ask you, Gloria.”
“It’ll wait, won’t it?” She lit a cigarette. “I want to get out of this thing. Come into the bedroom with me while I change,
Harry.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“I—I’ll stay here.”
She smiled.
“Scared of me, Harry?”
“Maybe. Anyway, I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Aren’t you? I wonder
She gave me a long inquisitive stare, then went into the
bedroom, leaving the door open.

I drank some of the whisky and tried to keep my eyes
from straying to the open door, but after a minute or so I
looked. I saw her standing before the long wall mirror, clad only in a white br@ssiere and p@nties, and the sight of her, like that, set any heart racing and turned my month dry.

I watched her slip into a flame-coloured silk wrap. She came out, fastening the wrap and I saw her smooth, n@ked thighs and long legs before she flicked the wrap into place.

That glimpse and what I had seen in the bedroom had a
devastating impact on my good intentions, and I had to take a
grip on myself to stop grabbing her in my arms.
“How do you happen to be here tonight?” she asked,
coming over and sitting on a stool by the bar.
“My wife’s gone to see her mother.”
“So you thought you would come and talk to me.”
“Yes.”
She lifted her glass.

“You’ve come at the right time, Harry. I’m just in the
mood for you.”
And I was in the mood for her.
“I—I want to talk to you about Dix.”
“Are you sure?”
“Gloria, what do you know about Dix? Did you know he’s
a crook?”

She finished her drink and set it down on the bar. Her
face was expressionless. Then she slid off the stool and came
close to me.

The look in her eyes had me going. Seeing her, the
orange wrap accentuating her black hair and eyes, she
seemed to me to be the most desirable woman I had ever
seen.

“I must know, Gloria,” I said, scarcely knowing what I
was saying.

She took my hand. The feel of her flesh against mine
sent a shiver down my spine.
“Let’s go into the other room, Harry.”

I was beyond resisting. I went with her across the room
and into her bedroom. She clicked on the lights. Instead of the two shaded lamps coming on that I had seen previously, fights came on everywhere; in the ceiling and around the big wall mirror which reflected down on to the white rug that lay by the enormous bed.

“I love lights,” she said and went over to the mirror and
stood before it looking at herself. “Why do people always
make love in the dark? I want lights, and lights and more
lights. I want you to see me and I want to see you.” She
turned, looking at me, her eyes glittering, “Do you think I’m
beautiful, Harry?”
“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I said
huskily.

“I believe you mean that. But you haven’t seen me yet as
I want you to see me.”
She undid the clasp at her waist and slipped out of her
wrap, letting it fall to the floor at her feet. Her hands moved quickly, shedding her other garments. In the blaze of light, her skin had the lustre of pearls.

For a few seconds she stood motionless, letting me feast
my eyes on her, then she held out her arms to me.

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