What should we do for seven hours?
‘I told them not to expect me back till they saw me,’ I said. ‘I must wait and see you off.’
‘Helen? I should like it.’
‘Will you, Helen?’
We turned back to the Hotel, where Hugo had a room reserved till the next day. I would stay there too. He engaged another room.
We walked up the stairs like people in a dream. The stuffy hotel smell, the thick, shabby carpet, the dull glare of the electric light, stamped themselves on my mind, but dazedly, as fantastic, unreal things.
In the long, deserted passage we stood still. Rows of shut doors stretched on either side of us. Boots stood outside some of them, military boots, and empty water cans. One bulb of electric light shone at the further end.
We read the numbers on the doors. 247 was my room. We reached the door, and then stood still again. It seemed a waste of precious time to sleep, but we were very tired, suddenly, unbearably tired.
‘Good night, Helen.’
‘Good night.’