Eve by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

strike you as odd?”
    She frowned. I could see she was in two minds. She did not know whether I was wasting her time or whether I was here professionally. It was obvious that she was controlling her im-patience with difficulty.
    “You have only come here to talk?” she said, looking at me and then immediately looking away. “Isn’t that a waste of time?”
    “I don’t think so. You interest me and besides I like talking to attractive women.”
    She looked up at the ceiling with an exaggerated expression of exasperation. “Oh they all say that,” she said impatiently.
    That annoyed me. “If you don’t mind I would rather not be classed with an anonymous “they”,” I said with acerbity.
    She looked surprised. “You have a very good opinion of yourself, haven’t you?”
    “Why not?” It was my turn to be impatient. “After all, who’ll believe in me if I don’t?”
    Her face darkened. “I don’t like conceited men.”
    “Haven’t you a good opinion of yourself?”
    She shook her head emphatically. “Why should I?”
    “I hope you’re not just another woman with an inferiority complex?”
    “Do you know so many?”
    “Quite a few. Is that what you suffer from?”
    She stared into the empty fireplace, her expression suddenly moody. “I suppose so.” Then she looked up suspiciously. “Do you think that’s funny?”
    “Why should I? I think it’s rather pathetic because there’s no reason for you to.”
    She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Why not?”
    I knew then that she was unsure of herself and interested to know what I thought of her.
    “You ought to be able to answer that if you are truthful about yourself. Now my first impressions of you . . . no, never mind, I don’t think I’ll tell you.”
    “Come on,” she said, “I want to know. What are your first impressions of me?”
    I studied her as if I were making a careful assessment of her qualities. She stared back at me, frowning and ill at ease, but wanting to know. I had thought so much about her for the past two days that I was long past first impressions. “If you really want to know,” I began with assumed reluctance, “only I don’t suppose you’ll believe me.”
    “Oh, come on,” she said impatiently, “don’t hedge.”
    “All right. I’d say you are a woman of considerable character, independent to a degree, hot tempered and strong willed, extra-ordinarily attractive to men and, oddly enough, sensitive in your feelings.”
    She studied me doubtfully. “I wonder how many women you have said that to?” she asked, but I could see she was secretly pleased.
    “Not many . . . none at all if you take it as a whole. I haven’t met any one woman with all those qualities except yourself. But, of course, I really don’t know you yet, do I? I may be entirely wrong . . . they’re just first impressions.”
    “Do you find me attractive?” She was in deadly earnest now.
    “I would hardly be here if I didn’t. Of course you’re attractive.”
    “But why? I’m not pretty.” She got up and looked in the mirror again. “I think I look awful.”
    “Oh no, you don’t. You have character and personality. That’s much better than insipid prettiness. There’s something extraordinary about you. Magnetic is perhaps, the word.”
    She folded her arms across her small, flat breasts. “I think you’re an awful liar,” she said, anger in her eyes. “You don’t really think I believe all this slop, do you? What exactly do you want? No one else comes here smarming over me like this.”
    I laughed at her. “Don’t get angry. You know, I’m sorry for you. You certainly have a bad inferiority complex. Never mind, perhaps one day you’ll believe me.” I leaned forward to examine the books on the beside table. There were copies of Front Page Detective , a shabby copy of Hemingway’s To Have and to Heme Not, and Thorne Smith’s Night Life of the Gods. I thought they were an odd assortment.
    “Do you read much?” I