62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. “They are coming past our table. Until Leonardo. Kneebone in a conciliatory tone. And then! a garment that was conceivably a secondary skirt. "I beg pardon," he said. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. The address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. Her faithful servant struggled, with her assistance, to rise.
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