Only the edge of the light reached Cora Deane, but it was enough for Knox to make out the softness of her profile in sleep, the steady rise and fall of her full breast, the outline of her full thigh and long leg. He turned away, took his pajamas and robe from the closet, and went into the bath. A quick view in the mirror there showed that his suit badly needed cleaning and pressing and that there was a little rehabilitation to be done on his face. He removed the morning stubble with the electric razor and then stood under a warm shower until the tension and some of the bruises Toll had given him began to be less painful. As he dried, he studied himself again in the mirror. There was one dark spot on his ribs, a pair of lumps on his head, a cut on his lip, and two small bruises left on his cheek. All in all it was not too bad. It could have been a good deal worse. Robe and pajamas on, he returned to the bedroom. The girl was still sleeping. Knox lit a cigaret and stretched out beside her.
