“We are saying prayers, that is why the door is open,” she responds.

“But we want to go on sleeping⁠—”

“Prayer is better than sleeping,” she stands there and smiles innocently. “And it is seven o’clock already.”

Albert groans again. “Shut the door,” I snort.

She is quite disconcerted. Apparently she cannot understand. “But we are saying prayers for you too.”

“Shut the door, anyway.”

She disappears, leaving the door open. The intoning of the litany proceeds.

I feel savage, and say: “I’m going to count up to three. If it doesn’t stop before then I’ll let something fly.”

“Me too,” says another.