He saw the back of a woman's head, and a tangle of dark hair, a bare, sun-brown arm, a bare shoulder.
Lucifer took off his glasses, breathed upon them, polished them thoughtfully on a corner of the sheet, and looked again.
The apparition was still there. Only now the head was turned. The eyes that were watching him were wide and startled. The lips moved in sort of a gasping sound. They framed the words:
"Get out of my bed!"
In spite of a certain paralysis, Lucifer bridled at the words. He was a rational man, and believed that words should originate in a context of rationality.
"I can assure you," he stated, "that I am not voluntarily in your bed, and that I have no intention of remaining here."
There was another gasping sound. The eyes widened still more. The lips exclaimed. "Dr. Brill! Dr. Lucifer Brill!"
Lucifer made a sound that was as close to a gurgle as he had come since infancy.
When he had collated his emotions, he asked in his customary tone,
"Have we met?"