We made plans to meet at seven, by the elevators, smiled, and I left. A short walk led me to my cabin, which had no signs on the door, so I went in. Roger was sprawled naked half on the couch and half on the floor. His bed was untouched. Mine—the couch that is—looked like a tornado had hit it. I reminded myself to be kind and not kill him, though I have to admit, the thought of Sonia’s gun crossed my mind. It was no use being angry. I checked the drawers and found all of my things untouched, and opening Roger’s saw that quite a few of his better shirts and most expensive underwear, were gone. I had to smile—God save my wicked soul.
I needed a nap, a shower, and clean clothes. I stretched out on Roger’s bed and kicked off my shoes, and I drifted away on thoughts of my wonderful afternoon.
