They sat on the bed, side by side, sharing a cigarette.
The old bed was caving in under their weight.
They hadn’t taken their coats off—it was too cold in the little room. The room was furnished with a table, two straight chairs, a stove top, a floor lamp, and a flat, dusty rug. But there was a window, and through the grime, Joe could see a patch of dark sky and a lamp post across the street.
“I have a radio,” Christophe said quietly. Those were his first words to Joe since they’d entered the room over an hour ago. “Would you like to listen to Jack Benny?” He made a move to rise.
But Joe put a hand on his shoulder. “What happens if the lady finds out I live here with you?”
The house belonged to a widow. It was badly neglected, but the rooms were cheap.
Christophe leaned back and slip
