Eddie told the people nearest the door that there had been a mistake and they could go upstairs. Nobody answered. A child rose beside his mother, thinking perhaps that any man speaking firmly must be obeyed. She caught his sleeve and settled him again. Sutter stayed behind Eddie with his gloves folded in one hand. I moved out of the doorway, but not toward the seats. “Mrs. Dorn asked to hear her tenants,” I said. Eddie looked at me as though I had interrupted something private.
Curtis reached past me for Hale's chair. Hale kept his cushion beneath him and planted both feet. I put my hand on the chair back, above Curtis's. “It's occupied.” Eddie told me to take my hands off his man. I did, leaving Curtis to decide whether he meant to drag an old lodger across the floor. Dorn stood. “These people are here with my consent.” Her voice shook on the last word. She stayed standing anyway, her leather bag held against her skirt.
Eddie stepped into the middle lane. “Danny and I will settle this.” I could have followed him outside and restored the old arrangement: everyone else waiting while two men decided what happened to their rooms. Instead I said there was one part I could settle now. I asked Ruth whether she wanted her trunk carried up. She looked toward Dorn. Dorn opened her bag and took out the papers. “The terms we discussed,” she said. Ruth answered me only after that. “Yes. Into the bedroom.”
Joe caught the far handle. We lifted the trunk together and turned toward the stairs. Eddie moved into the narrow space between us and the first step. I asked him to stand clear. He said my rooms were not mine to hand around. The trunk pulled at my sore palm. I told him I was not handing over a building; I was leaving rented rooms. He stayed put until I edged past him sideways, taking the weight against my hip. Joe followed, his jaw tight.
On the first landing Eddie caught my shoulder and hit me across the mouth. I struck the wall with my elbow, nearly dropping my end. Joe braced the trunk against a stair. For a moment I saw nothing but Eddie's coat buttons and knew exactly where I wanted to drive my fist. Below us somebody gasped. Ruth said my name, sharply, without asking me to do anything. I caught the handle again. “Lift,” I told Joe. We got the trunk around the turn while Eddie stood behind us.
In the bedroom we lowered it beside the bed. My suitcase waited on the coverlet, packed badly, a shirt cuff caught in its clasp. Joe asked whether I could manage. I pressed my handkerchief against my lip and nodded. He went down first. I freed the cuff, shut the suitcase, and looked once toward the kitchen. There were things I could not carry that evening. I would have to arrange their removal, not use them as a reason to remain. I took the suitcase downstairs.
Eddie waited beside the common-room door. He looked at what I carried and stepped back just enough to let me through. I set the suitcase beside my leg and put my personal key in Dorn's palm. “I'm giving up the rooms. What I owe stays mine.” I said it loudly enough for the people at the rear to hear. Dorn asked whether I meant possession that evening. I said yes. I did not claim the key was the only one. She closed her fingers over it.
Ruth read both copies while the room waited. She asked Dorn to point out the payment day, then signed at the table Joe had brought forward. Dorn signed after her and gave her one copy. Neither asked me to witness or approve it. At the entrance, Ruth slid the old blank card from the mailbox holder and wrote her own name on a fresh piece of paper. She pressed it behind the little metal frame. I stood back with my suitcase while she checked that it sat straight.
Eddie told Joe there was still time to leave with him. Joe remained beside the table. Hale adjusted his cushion; the machinist asked Dorn about the front-door latch. Their ordinary questions left Eddie standing outside the business of the room. Sutter touched his sleeve and turned toward the street. Curtis followed them. Eddie waited another moment for me to pick up something besides my suitcase. I did not. When he went out, nobody cheered. Ruth's trunk was upstairs, her agreement was in her hand, and I no longer had rooms to defend.