her hands were still burning from the heat of her body. The scent of her perfume stood in the air, mixed with the smell of our flesh, but it was no longer there. She disappeared. I fell on the pillow and fell asleep.

He fell silent, looking somewhere in space with a dreamy look. Then he poured a glass of brandy into his mouth and closed his eyes. “I'm tired and I want to sleep,” he whispered, “come in the evening, I will tell you what happened next.” We said goodbye to him and went out. Dick paid for the room a week in advance and told the clerk that the person who stayed there was not disturbed. Shocked by his story, we walked in silence for a long time. Then Dick clicked his tongue and said: “That's a lucky person!”

I looked at him with regret. - Fool, this is his tragedy.

Chapter 4

By seven o'clock in the evening we returned to the hotel with a wild man. Ram had already got up and was finishing off with a beard with an old broken razor. He did not remove it at all, but only trimmed it and now looked younger. His hands became cleaner and under the nails no longer blackened strips of dirt. He happily greeted us and, having removed his shaving accessories from the table, put a bottle of brandy.

The waitress brought dinner, and he looked at her, though not friendly, but without anger, and even helped arrange the plates on the table. We all sat down at the table, drank it, and Rem began to continue his story.

I woke up only at three o'clock in the afternoon. At first, I remembered what had happened at night as a dream, but when I saw white spots on the carpet, on the armchair and on the sofa, I realized that it was real. I got dressed and went on deck. The steamer approached Marcel. The portal cranes and the dense forest of the masts of the ships in the port were already visible. On the steamer reigned vanity fees. I returned to my cabin, quickly put my things in a travel case and sat down to the porthole. The soul was empty and easy. Nothing bothered me. I did not feel the loss of Salina and the joy of returning home. From Marseilles I had to go by train in order not to find myself in an awkward position with another lady, in whose presence I had no doubt. I took a separate compartment. At five o'clock in the evening, the Marseille-Cologne train departed from the apron and rushed north. I sat alone in the compartment and looked through the fresh newspapers that I bought at the station. But even the incidents for which I only bought newspapers did not interest me. I was bored. I went to a restaurant, drank some wine and, taking a bottle of rum with me, returned to the compartment.

Time slowly dragged on. The clock hand barely moved. Hour turned into a painful eternity. I took out the cards from the suitcase and began to review them. Ace of hearts was for me not a picture, but a photograph of a beloved woman. I tried to imagine a meeting with some of the other pretty beauties, but my imagination did not create anything interesting. Having finished viewing the maps, I put them on a table by the window, and, suffering from idleness, dozed off. I woke up from silence. The train was at some station. I looked out. The dial of the clock glowed right in front of me on the platform - five minutes to twelve.

We must get ready, another woman will come soon.

I put a bottle on the table and ordered the guide to get some snacks. By twelve, everything was ready. I looked at the clock, ticking the last minutes. And as soon as the arrows came together, one of the cards slammed to the floor with a gentle ring and on this spot a woman grew out of nothing. She was tall, with golden hair tied with a silk green scarf. She was wearing a yellow blouse, covered with a woolen cloak like a chain mail, and crimson satin pants, tightly fitting her slender legs to the knees. The trouser legs ended in a ragged fringe that did not serve as a sign of the disrepair of her attire, he gave up all the shop-newness. A green shiny belt with two clasp straps tightly intercepted her narrow waist. In her left hand she held a saber inserted in a red scabbard with tassels.I looked at her with undisguised curiosity, expecting what she would do. As if having just woken up from a deep sleep, she sweetly stretched, spreading her arms and, noticing her sword, swore:

Here, the devil, has advised him to give me this club.

She threw the sword on the floor and turned to me.

Oh, that's what! There is a man here! And I thought loneliness awaited me here. Hi, boy! Where are we? Is it in the train? Funny

Dumbly, she walked through the compartment, touched everything she could reach, looked into the restroom and, satisfied with the inspection, returned to the table.

Well, well, quite a decent room. Oh, I see the wine. Do you want a drink with me?

She unceremoniously uncorked a bottle and poured rum in two glasses.

Drink it! - without waiting until I take my glass, she clinked glasses and drank in one gulp.

Wow! What is it? Oh, rum! - she grabbed oysters right from the plate and threw them into her mouth. I was stunned by her unceremoniousness and silently sat in his place, without taking a curious glance from her.

Chewing on the oysters, she jumped up.

- Listen, you do not have needles with thread?

I shook my head negatively, drank my rum and sat down on the sofa with her.

- Why do you need a needle?

What do you mean why? What do you think I will be wearing in those ragged pants?

She gently tucked the fringe inside.

- Well, okay, come along and so. Let's drink some more.

I hugged her around the waist and gently drew her to me.

- Take off your pants completely.

She poured out the rum and, putting the bottle back in place, slapped me with her left hand on the cheek. I bounced to the other end of the couch.

What am I to you, street girl? - she angrily looked at me, she said, - sit in your seat.

Burning with shame, I resignedly rested on my sofa. She gave me a glass.

- Let's drink to our acquaintance.

“Wow acquaintance,” I thought, rubbing my cheek.

The train began to slow down. The lights of the station buildings flashed in the window. Hastily swallowing rum, she jumped up from the couch and grabbed my hand.

- Let's go for a walk on the platform.

- But ... After all, you are not dressed! - embarrassed, I said, pointing to her pants.

“Oh, never mind,” she glanced at the windows and exclaimed joyfully:

“Oh, now I will have a chic skirt,” with these words, she tore off the silk rep curtain and wrapped herself around her, a skirt tightly fitting her hips turned out. She was short, peeped out her pants.

- And I'll take them off.

She quickly ripped off her pants and naked the fabric directly on her naked body, strengthening her waist with a belt.

- I'm ready, let's go.

The train has already approached the platform. I took her arm and we got out of the compartment. In the corridor, I missed her forward and only now noticed that she was walking barefoot. Without hesitation, while no one saw us yet, I grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the compartment. Understanding nothing, she exclaimed indignantly:

- What does it mean? You forget, my dear!

- Sorry, but you obviously forgot that you have nothing on your legs.

She looked at her bare feet and whistled.

- Get me shoes! - in a tone that does not tolerate objections, she ordered.

- And try to high heels.

In Algeria, I bought original snakeskin shoes for my wife. Now rushed to look for them. While I was rummaging in suitcases, my lady was standing by the window and impatiently drumming on the glass with her fingers. Finally, I found the right one and threw a pair of beautiful new shoes at her feet. She glanced at them and silently stretched my leg. Then the second. She walked through the compartment, looked in the mirror and nodded approvingly, snapping her fingers.

- Excellent! Now let's go.

We went to the platform, along which the passengers of our train, departing and carrying people, were fussing about fussily. My “King of Hearts”, and it was he who walked with me with the stately gait of the queen ... Read more →