Soon after supper Spawn yawned. "I think I shall go to bed." His glance was inquiring. "What are you going to do?"
I stood up. "I'll go to bed, too. Markes wants to see me early in the morning. You'll be there, Spawn?"
"Yes. We will go together."
It was still no more than eight o'clock in the evening. Spawn followed me to my bedroom, and left me at its door.
"Sleep well. I will call you in time."
"Thanks, Spawn."
I wondered if there were irony in his voice as he said good night. No one could have told.
I did not go to bed. I sat listening to the silence of my room and the garden, and Spawn's retreating footsteps. He had said he was sleepy, but nevertheless I presently heard him across the patio. He was apparently in the kitchen, cleaning away our meal, to judge by the rattling of his pans. It was as yet not much after hour eight of the evening. The hours before my tryst with Jetta seemed an interminable time to wait. She might not come, though, I was afraid, until midnight.
At all events I felt that I had some hours yet. And it occurred to me that the evening was not yet too far advanced for me to call upon Perona. He lived not far from here, I had learned. I wanted to see this beribboned old Minister of Nareda's Internal Affairs.