He took a drink.
“That was rather good. Ashley, chap she got the title from, was a sailor, you know. Ninth baronet. When he came home he wouldn’t sleep in a bed. Always made Brett sleep on the floor. Finally, when he got really bad, he used to tell her he’d kill her. Always slept with a loaded service revolver. Brett used to take the shells out when he’d gone to sleep. She hasn’t had an absolutely happy life. Brett. Damned shame, too. She enjoys things so.”
He stood up. His hand was shaky.
“I’m going in the room. Try and get a little sleep.”
He smiled.
“We go too long without sleep in these fiestas. I’m going to start now and get plenty of sleep. Damn bad thing not to get sleep. Makes you frightfully nervy.”
“We’ll see you at noon at the Iruña,” Bill said.
Mike went out the door. We heard him in the next room.
He rang the bell and the chambermaid came and knocked at the door.
“Bring up half a dozen bottles of beer and a bottle of Fundador,” Mike told her.