Part 7
The young man suddenly picked up one of Sybil's wet feet, which were drooping over
the end of the float, and kissed the arch.
"Hey!" said the owner of the foot, turning around.
"Hey, yourself We're going in now. You had enough?"
"No!"
"Sorry," he said, and pushed the float toward shore until Sybil got off it. He carried it
the rest of the way.
"Goodbye," said Sybil, and ran without regret in the direction of the hotel.
The young man put on his robe, closed the lapels tight, and jammed his towel into his
pocket. He picked up the slimy wet, cumbersome float and put it under his arm. He
plodded alone through the soft, hot sand toward the hotel.
On the sub-main floor of the hotel, which the management directed bathers to use, a
woman with zinc salve on her nose got into the elevator with the young man.
"I see you're looking at my feet," he said to her when the car was in motion.
"I beg your pardon?" said the woman.
"I said I see you're looking at my feet."
"I beg your pardon. I happened to be looking at the floor," said the woman, and faced
the doors of the car.
"If you want to look at my feet, say so," said the young man. "But don't be a Goddamned
sneak about it."
"Let me out here, please," the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car.
The car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back.
"I have two normal feet and I can't see the slightest God-damned reason why anybody
should stare at them," said the young man. "Five, please." He took his room key out of
his robe pocket.
He got off at the fifth floor, walked down the hall, and let himself into 507. The room
smelled of new calfskin luggage and nail-lacquer remover.
He glanced at the girl lying asleep on one of the twin beds. Then he went over to one
of the pieces of luggage, opened it, and from under a pile of shorts and undershirts he
took out an Ortgies calibre 7.65 automatic. He released the magazine, looked at it, then
reinserted it. He cocked the piece. Then he went over and sat down on the unoccupied
twin bed, looked at the girl, aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple.
The young man suddenly picked up one of Sybil's wet feet, which were drooping over
the end of the float, and kissed the arch.
"Hey!" said the owner of the foot, turning around.
"Hey, yourself We're going in now. You had enough?"
"No!"
"Sorry," he said, and pushed the float toward shore until Sybil got off it. He carried it
the rest of the way.
"Goodbye," said Sybil, and ran without regret in the direction of the hotel.
The young man put on his robe, closed the lapels tight, and jammed his towel into his
pocket. He picked up the slimy wet, cumbersome float and put it under his arm. He
plodded alone through the soft, hot sand toward the hotel.
On the sub-main floor of the hotel, which the management directed bathers to use, a
woman with zinc salve on her nose got into the elevator with the young man.
"I see you're looking at my feet," he said to her when the car was in motion.
"I beg your pardon?" said the woman.
"I said I see you're looking at my feet."
"I beg your pardon. I happened to be looking at the floor," said the woman, and faced
the doors of the car.
"If you want to look at my feet, say so," said the young man. "But don't be a Goddamned
sneak about it."
"Let me out here, please," the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car.
The car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back.
"I have two normal feet and I can't see the slightest God-damned reason why anybody
should stare at them," said the young man. "Five, please." He took his room key out of
his robe pocket.
He got off at the fifth floor, walked down the hall, and let himself into 507. The room
smelled of new calfskin luggage and nail-lacquer remover.
He glanced at the girl lying asleep on one of the twin beds. Then he went over to one
of the pieces of luggage, opened it, and from under a pile of shorts and undershirts he
took out an Ortgies calibre 7.65 automatic. He released the magazine, looked at it, then
reinserted it. He cocked the piece. Then he went over and sat down on the unoccupied
twin bed, looked at the girl, aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple.
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