THE DETECTIVE
97
got a bitter whiff of stale smoke as of wet ashes, Mr. Acker awoke,
feeling as if he had been lightly struck, and knew himself resur–
rected back into himself. For who knows how long, he had utterly
lost track of time. His brain was working now, and he thought, Ycs,
the manner in which all those feet had moved was suspicious. Yes,
very much so! On the other hand, to be absolutely just, it also oc–
curred to
him
that he could simply interpret their stealth as natural,
because although the help well knew they should never use the
main stairs, at the Metropole they usually did in the off-hours; yet
especially they shouldn't when a member of the top staff like
'him–
self was there, although, again, strictly speaking, Saturday evening
he did not belong in the lobby in his workclothes either. So, where
was he now, with all this anxious guessing and unguessing to and
fro? Nevertheless, Acker began to climb the stairs, as softly as he
was able, feeling and peering, like an ecstatic diver gone far beyond
his limit, up, up, up into what seemed chiaroscuro depths and
deeps-and commenting bitterly to himself that what would have
been a flagrant violation of safety in another place, was in the
Metropole, atmosphere, character, quality even!
The second floor was empty, forward and back. So was the
third. Breathing hard in his absorption, and from the attitude of
caution he had assumed, Acker continued more slowly to the fourth.
He had heard whispering. He stuck his weak chin, level with the
top step, around the landing. Down the hall, the linen closet's door
was ajar, and the lightbulb in it shed a soft zone over two forms
which were close together and appeared to him at first to be scuf–
fling. Concentrating, breathless, Acker watched. It was one of the
Negro girls, the maid, Marie, whom they called Bright Eyes be–
cause of her enormous, longlashed black eyes, emphasized by promi–
nent, slanted cheekbones, and because her eyes always seemed to
be
satirically laughing, and one of the busboys. Acker suddenly
realized that they were embracing, rocking back and forth into and
out of the closet, as if they were dancing. The girl's arms stood out
black against the boy's white jacket: Acker watched with fascina–
tion as one of the hands slipped down his back, walking like a crab,
and bit the boy
in
the seat of his pants. Acker heard them laughing
together: the boy let go to seize her hand, and she pushed him
away. Then he shoved her back into the closet again, and in a few
