Fenner didn’t believe it. “That little guy took me out of Carlos’s place? Didn’t Carlos say anythin’?”
Curly yawned. “He wasn’t there. They were all over at the hotel.”
Fenner said, “I see.” He lay still, thinking, then he said, “What’s the date?” When she told him, he said, “It’s still May?” She nodded. He reckoned painfully. He’d been away from Glorie for four days. It seemed a lot longer than that. Then he said, “Carlos missed me yet?”
Curly yawned again. “Uh-huh, but he ain’t linked me or Nightingale up with it. Maybe he’ll get round to it. He thinks of everything.”
Fenner shifted. He passed his fingers through his hair gently. His skull was very tender. “That guy won’t like you too much if he finds out.”
Curly shrugged. “You’re right,” she said, and yawned again. “There’s a lot of room in your bed. Would it embarrass you a lot if I got some sleep?”
Fenner smiled. “You come on in.”
Curly sighed and went out of the room. She came back in a little while in a pink woolly dressing-gown. Fenner said, “Well, that’s homey isn’t it?”
She came round and sat on the far end of the bed. “Maybe, but it’s safe,” she said. She kicked off her slippers and took off the dressing-gown. “You wouldn’t think it, but I’m always cold in bed,” she said. She was wearing a pair of light wool pajamas.
He watched her climb in beside him. “That sleepin’ suit looks kind of unromantic, too, doesn’t it?” he said.