"The loo." She looked at his puzzled expression. "The toilet."
"Oh. Yes. Down the hall."
"That's not so bad. If it's a nice-sized room, I mean."
"It's pretty fair-sized. A nice lady runs it, I've got to tell you, though…"
"Yes?"
"I saw a rat there."
"Rats I can do without."
"You and me both."
"What'd you do?"
"I killed it," Roger said flatly.
"I'm even afraid of mice," Molly said. "I could never find the courage to kill a rat."
"Well, it was pretty horrible," Roger said. "This area's infested with them, though, you know. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more rats than people in this area."
"Please," she said, wincing. "I won't be able to sleep tonight."
"Oh, you very rarely see them," he said. "You might hear one of them, but you rarely see them. This one must have been an old guy, otherwise he wouldn't have been so slow. You should have been there. He got up on his hind legs when I backed him in the corner, and he-"
"Please," she said. "Don't." And shuddered.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"
"That's all right." She picked up her drink and took a swallow. "I'll never be able to sleep tonight," she said, and very quickly added, "Alone."
Roger did not say anything.
"I'll be scared to death," she said, and shuddered again, and again took a swallow of her drink. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, scaring a girl half to death?"
"I'm sorry," Roger said.
"That's all right," Molly answered, and finished her drink, and then giggled. "How large is your room?" she asked.
"Fair-sized."
"Well, how large is that?"
"I don't really know. I'm not too good on sizes."
"I'm very good on sizes." Molly paused and smiled tentatively, as though embarrassed by what she was about to say and do. She picked up her empty glass and tried to drain a few more drops from it, and then put it down on the table and said, very casually, "I'd like to see that room of yours. It sounds really inexpensive. If it's a good-sized room, I might move from where I am. That is, if it's really as inexpensive as you say it is."
"Yes, it's only four dollars."
"I'd like to see the room," she said, and raised her eyes from her glass for only a moment, and then lowered them again.
"I could take you there," Roger said.
"Would you?"
"Sure."
"Just for a minute. Just to see what it's like."
"Sure."
"I'd appreciate that," Molly said. Her eyes were still lowered. She was blushing furiously.
"I'll get your coat," Roger said, and stood up.
As he helped her into it, she glanced up over her shoulder and said, "How did you kill it? The rat, I mean."
"I squeezed it in my hands," Roger said.
The headwaiter was leading the detective and the woman to a table as Roger checked his coat. The woman was wearing a pale blue dress, a jumper he supposed you called it, over a long-sleeved white blouse. She smiled up at the headwaiter as he pulled out the chair for her, and then sat, and immediately put both hands across the table to cover the detective's hands as he sat opposite her. "Thank you," Roger said to the hatcheck girl, and put the ticket she handed him into his jacket pocket. The headwaiter was coming toward the front of the restaurant again. He looked French. Roger hoped this wasn't a French restaurant.
"Bon jour, monsieur," the headwaiter said, and Roger thought Oh boy. "How many will you be, sir?"
"I'm alone," Roger said.
"Out, monsieur, this way, please."
Roger followed the headwaiter into the restaurant. For a moment, he thought he was being led to the other end of the room, but the headwaiter was simply making a wide detour around a serving tray near one of the tables. He stopped at a table some five feet away from the detective and the woman.
"Voild, monsieur," the headwaiter said, and held out a chair.
"How about the table over there?" Roger said. "Near the wall."
"Monsieur?" the headwaiter said, turning, his eyebrows raised.
"That table," Roger said, and pointed to the table immediately adjacent to the detective's.
"Out, monsieur, certainement," the headwaiter said, and shoved the chair back under the table with an air of annoyed efficiency. He led Roger to the table against the wall, turned it out at an angle so that Roger could seat himself on the cushioned bench behind it, and then moved it back to its original position. "Would monsieur care for a cocktail?"
"No," Roger said. "Thank you."
"Would you like to see a menu now, sir?"
"Yes," Roger said. "Yes, I would."
The headwaiter snapped his fingers. "La carte pour monsieur," he said to one of the table waiters and then made a brief bow and disappeared. The table waiter brought a menu to Roger and he thanked him and opened it.
"Well, what do you think?" the detective said.
The woman did not answer. Roger, his head buried in the menu, wondered why the woman did not answer.
"I suppose so," the detective said.
Again, the woman did not answer. Roger kept looking at the menu, not wanting to seem as if he were eavesdropping.
"Well, sure, you always do," the detective said.
