A bit of Bohemia, Willy had promised him. The words disturbed Walther. He had been disappointed so often in his twenty-four hours on Earth that he didn't feel like bracing himself for another let-down. Nor did he feel in the mood for a gay evening, if that was what Willy had meant.
Would Maria be there?
Walther shook his head angrily. He was indeed a fool if he expected anything after this day.
1400 Avenue B was only a few moments by monorail from the Hotel Altair. A gentle-faced woman who reminded Walther of his own mother answered his knock on the door of Apartment 21.
"Kdftc?" she inquired politely.
Walther stared at her. Was this all a cruel joke played by Willy Fritsh? Certainly this elderly woman, this quiet building, contained no Bohemia to be spoken of with discretion.
"Excuse me," he muttered, not even bothering to consult his Manual. He bowed and backed away. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake—"
She stayed him with a small gesture of her delicate fingers. Glancing swiftly up and down the hall, she beckoned him inside. When the door was closed, she smiled a bright welcome, and spoke in the old tongue:
"You're the young man from Andromeda!"