'I think I can get along without that,' I laughed.
'Okay,' he said and switched off the light. 'You'll feel fine tomorrow.'
As soon as his footsteps had died away, I got up and locked the door. I was taking no chances.
I had not been in the warmth of my bed more than a few minutes before ski boots clattered along the bare boards of the corridor and there was a knock at the door. 'Who's there?' I asked.
'Keramikos,' was the reply.
'Just a minute,' I said. I slipped out of bed and unlocked the door. Then I put the light on and hopped back into bed. 'Come in,' I called.
He entered and shut the door. He stood for a moment at the foot of my bed, looking at me. It was difficult to see the expression of his eyes behind those thick lenses. They reflected the light and looked like two round white discs. 'So,' he said, 'it was not the slittovia, eh?'
'How do you mean?' I asked. But I understood.
He ignored my question. 'You lock your door now, hm? You are learning.'
'You're not surprised that I had an accident whilst out with Mayne, are you?' I said.