‘Room number?’
‘Forty-four.’
‘Good. You see, it is only during my working hours that they have their spies with me. How long will you stay?’
‘Till Friday,’ I answered.
‘Two days. That is not long. And after that — where do you go on Friday?’
‘To Milan.’
‘To Milan?’ For the first time I saw expression come into his eyes — a quickening of interest. ‘If I were to come to your room very late—’ He didn’t finish for the door was thrown open and his shadow entered followed by a rather plain girl with a red scarf and a hammer and sickle brooch. ‘And you are with this machine tool company?’ he said quickly as though continuing an interrupted conversation. ‘Why are you no longer flying?’
I thrust my leg out for him to see.
‘So you lose a leg, eh?’ He clicked his tongue sympathetically. ‘Above the knee?’
I nodded.