"There's no one here but me."
"The bell boy—"
The manager searched the room. He looked in the closet. He looked in the shower. His face slowly began to take on color.
Foolishly he got down on his knees and peered under the bed.
"Well," he said, dusting off his trousers as he stood up, "well ... oh.... Is the service all right, Miss? Do you have any complaints? Plenty of towels? Soap? Did the bell boy raise the window—yes, I see he did. There's enough heat? I, I seemed to have—I was on the wrong floor entirely. You see—"
His face grew even more puzzled. "There's a woman on the, on the ninth floor I guess it is—how could I ever have made such a mistake? this is the seventh floor, isn't it?—has a man in her bed." His face got redder. He waved his hands. "Tied to the bed."
"Oh, my," Julia said.
"Yes, isn't it. Now, if you want anything, don't hesitate to ring. I'm sorry about this mistake. Silly of me. This is the seventh floor ... isn't it?"
"Yes, this is the seventh floor."
The manager left.