NIRVANA
A pleasant sense of motion came over me that suggested cradling waves, and I was sleepily wondering why we had gone out on a day that portended storms, when a tapping at my stateroom door was followed by someone whispering:
"Aren't you ever going to get up, you lazy old dear?"
It was a girl's voice.
Gradually and cautiously I drew the sheet about my chin, feeling no little confused to have a girl five feet away whispering pet names at me through a thin partition.
"Aren't you?" she repeated, more sweetly imperious.
"You bet," I stammered.
"Then do hurry! It's almost ten, and I've been waiting such a long time!"
Whereupon I heard her moving off, pressing her hands against the panels for steadiness, and there struck me as having been an endearing pathos in the way she said: "such a long time!"