Page:Krakatit (1925).pdf/39

 thinking how pleasantly cool it would be if he could put his forehead against the fur.

“I haven’t got it with me,” she said, standing up. “It will only be a small parcel. If you could wait I’ll bring it you in two hours’ time.”

Prokop bowed; and in doing so he was afraid of losing his equilibrium. In the doorway she turned round and gave him a direct look. “Au revoir.” She was gone.

Prokop sat down and closed his eyes. The drops of rain on the fur; a thick and bedewed veil; a curiously distant voice; scent; uneasy hands in small tight gloves; a clear and disturbing glance from beneath firm, elegant eyebrows; her hands on her lap; the soft folds of her dress over her strong knees. Oh, little hands in tight gloves! Scent, a dark and vibrant voice, a smooth, pale face. Prokop dug his teeth into his quivering lips, sad, and confused and brave. Blue-grey eyes, eyes clean and full of light. Oh God, how her veil pressed against her lips!

Prokop groaned and opened his eyes. “And she’s Thomas’s girl,” he said to himself, with blind fury. “She knew the way; it wasn’t the first time she had been there. Perhaps here here in this very room ” Prokop dug his nails into his palms in intolerable agony. “And I, like a fool, suggest that I shall go after him! I, idiot that I am, am to take him a letter! What have I to do with her?”

Then he had a saving thought. I will dash off home to my laboratory at the top of the house—and she—let her come here! Let her do what she