She spread fresh sheets ... "I washed them yesterday ... they’re dry," she said. He said nothing, admiring her as he would admire an animal: bitch spreading sheets and cover. "There," she sighed, settling the pillow. As she straightened up, her arm bumped the crucifix on the wall by the bed; it rocked back and forth with a dry sound; with a frown she steadied it, but, as she steadied it, he felt she was waiting for a proposition. "I’m with the Maquis," he lied. "I go into Germany tomorrow ... parachute drop ... How about sleeping with me tonight? I’ll pay you two hundred francs." "I’ll come," she said. "I’ll come later on ... I’ll sneak you whiskey..." She had a huge smile: two hundred francs, Jesus, the man was crazy! "Okay," he said. "There’s work to do ... some late customers ... I’ll be late." "Okay." Like a drugged man he sat down, unlaced his shoes, lay down, and peered at the wall. He did not bother to take off his jacket. He stretched out on the cover ... and was asleep instantly. Just before he dropped off he felt the bed sink on one side; he reached for the tank controls and heard a shell explode in the distance; he was falling ... The flash of a table lamp woke him and he propped himself on an elbow and tried to recall where he was. "What is it?" he managed. "Who is it?" "It’s me ... Suzanne." "Oh." She was carrying a hooded teapot, cups, a plate of cheese and bread on a tray. She set the tray on the bed and Orville blinked at it. The smell of the cheese helped him wake up. While she was arranging the cups and teapot, he shed his jacket. As she poured his cup, she explained that the whiskey was locked up: It’s very late ... I don’t have the key. "It’s about two o’clock," she said, and couldn’t think of anything more to say she was so tired. Now she worried that he might refuse to pay her, or pay for the room. "You work late," he said. "Yes ... but not every night." "Hungry?" "Not much ... you fell asleep." "Umm ... I did." "Where are you from? ... You can tell me." "I was born here." "In Ermenonville?" "Yes." "Oh." He observed her bloodshot eyes, and remembering that he had been asleep, he put his hand on his billfold: it was there. He appraised Suzanne’s body as he gulped the tea, needing the warmth to warm him ... Jeannette was on duty ... the Rondes were in Senlis ... Lena was buried ... he ate a little cheese and finished the cup and pushed the tray away and began yanking off his shirt and trousers, troubled by the buttons and zipper. "Have more to eat," he said. "A little cheese," she said, hoping tea and cheese would lessen her weariness.