32
ALBERTO MORAVIA
she said it, she threw herself against Sergio and, still holding his
hand tightly, pretended to be struggling with him. Sergio felt
that
this
time he ought at least to derive some advantage from
the pretence, so he tried to put
his
arm round Albina's waist.
But she pushed
him
away. Luciano loudly asked the Mexican
woman: "Fruit? Sweet?"
"Sweet."
"I want a sweet too," said Albina in a furious voice. A
moment later the waiter brought the sweet for the two women.
Luciano and Sergio, on the other hand, ate fruit. The sweet was
a creamy one; the Mexican woman ate part of it and then
stubbed out her cigarette in what was left. Albina, her head
down, devoured the whole of her portion with her customary
animal-like impetuosity and then, putting her hand to her
stomach, said with a sigh of satisfaction: "Whew! I've eaten
too much ... This dress
is
too tight." She threw herself back
on the seat and tried to undo the zip fastening of her
skirt
along
her hip. But the
skirt
was so tight that she could not manage it.
"Look," she said to Sergio, "pull down the zip fastening for
me,
will
you?" He bent down, took hold of the little hook of
the fastener and drew it downwards. At once Albina's round,
youthful belly burst forth from the skirt, the navel clearly
visible through the transparent green veil of her undergarment.
"Coffee?" asked Luciano of the Mexican woman.
"Yes, coffee."
Albina was now sitting with half her belly out of her skirt;
on one side, through a split in her chemise, could
be
seen her
bare hip, brown and warm-looking, with the plump crease of
her groin. A couple of strolling musicians came in, a man and
a woman. He was an old man, small and thin, with a long
face. His black overcoat came right down to
his
feet and he had
a big cap pulled down over his ears. The woman was about
fifty; she was tall and handsome, dressed in black, and with a
