There were speaker grilles in the ceiling, but no music was coming out.There were speaker grilles in the ceiling, but no music was coming out. There were four metal eye-rings set in the ceiling, too, over the bed. New additions, I thought. There were crumbs of ceiling plaster on the floor. He pushed the heavy, old-fashioned oak door shut with an unnecessarily loud bang. He had my attention. I watched him from a warm, cozy nest; I was floating again, detached, but watching. He moved a chair to the foot of the bed, a heavy oak armchair; it looked like a piece of old office furniture. Then he came over and sat on the edge of the bed and stroked my forehead with his hand. "How are you? Warmed up?" I nodded. "Good." He leaned down and kissed me. His hand felt good through the covers. "I have a kind of test for you. But not if you're still cold." "I'm okay," I said, a little apprehensive. "What test?" "You have to sit in the chair. The room is warm, though. I think you'll be okay." "Okay," I said, looking at the chair. When I didn't move he slowly pulled the covers down to my waist. I sat up. The chair was facing me at the foot of the bed. It seemed ordinary enough. I really wanted to ask what he was going to do, what this test business was. He took my hand gently and stood up, waiting for me. He held my hand by my fingertips as though he were going to be gallant and kiss it, and when I got to my feet he held it as though I were Cinderella stepping down from her coach. |