Joe was sitting in the corner farthest from the window. When the door swung open, he looked up. He showed no interest on seeing K., who had to stoop to enter the low room.
“Hello, Joe.”
“I thought you were the police.”
“Not much. Open that window, Bill. This place is stifling.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, indeed.”
“I wish I'd killed him!”
“Oh, no, you don't. You're damned glad you didn't, and so am I.”
“What will they do with me?”
“Nothing until they find you. I came to talk about that. They'd better not find you.”