92
CHRISTINA STEAD
just been put out of my room and the weather's so tricky I can't
take
it
with me. Tonight I'll have to sleep in the park."
Mrs. Anderson grasped his hands, reached up to kiss
his
cheeks,
hastily begging for details.
"Are you so poor, Georgie, you can't pay your rent?"
Gilbert said in a jolly tone that it was
all
right, he need not
worry, the painting could stay there "till the cows come home."
Where did he intend to sell it? George had had an offer; he
ex·
pected to get $10,000 for it. But he must lie low for a couple of days.
The police were after him on account of
his
rent. Then, unluckily,
the room in which he had spent only a week, had before that
been
rented to a sneak thief. The police had mistaken him for the thief.
He had had to make a getaway over the roofs.
"Over the roof, George!" said Mrs. Anderson with anxiety.
She looked him over; no bruise, no broken limb. "But couldn't you
explain who you were? You have papers!"
"Get beat up first, explain afterwards," said George, walking
in to the table, which he could see through the glass doors. George
sat at one end of the table,
his
legs
stretched out, talking
in
an
undertone to his aunt, who hung over him, her little white head
and her big black eyes nodding at him. He was tired and hungry; he
seemed exhausted. But he ate and drank with excellent manners
and only glanced once or twice at the chocolate cake before he was
asked to have some. Then he took four slices, as they were pressed ,
on him. He was polite to everyone, yet in an absence, like a sick
person. He suddenly said:
"You don't know what trouble I'm in, Aunt."
He had not eaten properly for a long time, had nowhere
to
sleep, no clothes. He could come back here and spend the night on a
divan in the living room; and he would be no bother. Then he
seemed anxious to leave. She lifted her hands high, pressed back
the loose hair, straightened
his
collar.
They stood at the door. 'George left them in a curious way. He
opened the lift door, next to them, and went up in the lift. Perhaps
he had a friend in the building. They shut the door. A little while
later the doorbell rang and there stood a policeman to
ask
if
a
Mr.
Joe Miller was there. Did they know him, a young man with dark
hair selling men's shirts? At that moment another policeman entered
