I stood in front of the door of Mike’s room and knocked. There was no answer. I tried the knob and it opened. Inside the room was in great disorder. All the bags were opened and clothing was strewn around. There were empty bottles beside the bed. Mike lay on the bed looking like a death mask of himself. He opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Hello, Jake,” he said very slowly. “I’m getting a lit tle sleep. I’ve want ed a lit tle sleep for a long time.”
“Let me cover you over.”
“No. I’m quite warm.”
“Don’t go. I haven’t got ten to sleep yet.”
“You’ll sleep, Mike. Don’t worry, boy.”
“Brett’s got a bullfighter,” Mike said. “But her Jew has gone away.”
He turned his head and looked at me.
“Damned good thing, what?”
“Yes. Now go to sleep, Mike. You ought to get some sleep.”
“I’m just start ing. I’m go ing to get a lit tle sleep.”
He shut his eyes. I went out of the room and turned the door to quietly. Bill was in my room reading the paper.
“See Mike?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go and eat.”
“I won’t eat downstairs with that German head waiter. He was damned snotty when I was getting Mike upstairs.”