“I do not know Athens. I have never been. Would you allow me to go with you?”
“Yes, of course. I should be glad of company. But I was only going to buy some English books and cigarettes.”
“I am most grateful.”
“Not at all. We get in just after lunch, don’t we?”
“Yes, yes. That is quite right. But I will find out exact time. You leave that to me.”
“Then that’s settled. I think I shall go to bed now. Good night, Mr. Kuvetli.”
“Good night, sir. And I thank you for your favour.”
“Not at all. Good night.”
He went to his cabin, rang for the steward and said that he wanted his breakfast coffee in his cabin at nine-thirty. Then he undressed and got into his bunk.
For a few minutes he lay on his back enjoying the gradual relaxing of his muscles. Now, at last, he could forget Haki, Kopeikin, Banat, and the rest of it. He was back in his own life, and could sleep. The phrase “asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow” passed through his mind. That was how it would be with him. God knew he was tired enough. He turned on his side. But sleep did not come so easily. His brain would not stop working. It was as if the needle were trapped in one groove on the record. He’d made a fool of himself with that wretched woman Josette. He’d made a fool … He jerked his thoughts forward. Ah yes! He was committed to three unalloyed hours of Mr. Kuvetli’s company. But that was to-morrow. And now, sleep. But his hand was throbbing again, and there seemed to be a lot of noise going on. That boor José was right. The vibration was excessive. The cabins w ere too near the lavatories. There were footsteps overhead, too: people walking round the shelter deck. Round and round. Why, for Heaven’s sake, must people always be walking?