His face must have revealed his distress for the president said, "You're worn out, Zalen. Can't have that, you know. Not with the big test coming tomorrow."
Lindsay barely remembered leaving the president and being led to a sleeping chamber somewhere in the vast mansion. When he woke up it was dark and Nina was perched on the edge of his contour couch, looking unexpectedly demure in a grey bolo with white collar and cuffs.
He said, as articulate as usual when she surprised him, "Hi."
"About time you woke up," she said. "Do you know you snore?"
"I can't help it," he told her. Then, coming fully awake, "How the devil did you get here?"
"I walked," she informed him succinctly. She stood up, her magnificent figure silhouetted against the light. "Better get dressed—your duds are over there." She nodded toward a walldrobe. "I'll wait in the bathroom." She breezed out.
When he looked at the clothing he was to wear he sensed that Nina had selected it for him. It was a little brighter in color, a little more daring in cut, than what he would have picked for himself.
Nina was placing jewels carefully in her hair, which she had released to form a sleek halo around her magnificent head, when he entered the bathroom. A small palisade of glittering jeweled hairpins protruded from her mouth. She had shed her demure bolo and stood revealed in glittering black bodice-bra and evening skirt-clout.
After placing the last jewel in her hair she swung about and said, "There—how do I look?"
"Gorgeous," he told her.