"Okay," he said.
"There's work to do ... some late customers ... I'll be late."
"Okay."
Like a drugged man he sat down, unlaced his shoes, lay down, and peered at the wall. He did not bother to take off his jacket. He stretched out on the cover ... and was asleep instantly. Just before he dropped off he felt the bed sink on one side; he reached for the tank controls and heard a shell explode in the distance; he was falling ...
The flash of a table lamp woke him and he propped himself on an elbow and tried to recall where he was.
"What is it?" he managed. "Who is it?"
"It's me ... Suzanne."
"Oh."
She was carrying a hooded teapot, cups, a plate of cheese and bread on a tray. She set the tray on the bed and Orville blinked at it. The smell of the cheese helped him wake up. While she was arranging the cups and teapot, he shed his jacket. As she poured his cup, she explained that the whiskey was locked up: It's very late ... I don't have the key.
"It's about two o'clock," she said, and couldn't think of anything more to say she was so tired. Now she worried that he might refuse to pay her, or pay for the room.