My legs were too shaky and too weak. I couldn’t have run away from a charging bull.
I took a staggering step forward and promptly sat on the floor. I didn’t have to sit on the floor, but it occurred to me it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let Bland think I was a lot weaker in the legs than I actually was.
I crawled up on hands and knees and regained my feet. Bland hadn’t moved. He was suspicious, and wasn’t going to be caught in any trap.
“Give me a hand, can’t you?” I snarled at him. “Or let me get back to bed.”
“Look, baby, I’m warning you,” he said softly. “If you start anything it’ll be the last thing you start for a very long time.”
“Cut out the yap. What’s the matter with you? Scared of me?”
That seemed the kind of language he understood, for he grabbed hold of my arm.
“Not of you, baby, or of anyone else.”
He helped me on with the dressing-gown, opened the door and together we stepped out into a long broad corridor. I took a couple more steps, and paused as if I still wasn’t feeling too sure of myself. The pause gave me time to look to right and left. One end of the corridor terminated in a massive-looking door, the other end was sealed off by a high window, covered with a close mess-grill.
“Okay, baby,” Bland said, grinning. “Now you have had a look, let’s get moving. I told you how it was. Well, now you’ve seen for yourself.”