Chapter 67

           AtthelastmomentIhadangrilycriedhername.Ithoughtatfirstthattheyhadfoundsomefantasticdouble;butnoonecouldhaveimitatedthatwalk.Thewayofstanding.Ileaptbacktothephoneandgotthenightporter."Thatcallcanyoutraceit?"Hedidn’tunderstand"trace.""Doyouknowwhereitcamefrom?"No,hedidn’tknow.Hadanyonestrangebeeninthehotellobbyduringthelasthour?Anyonewaitingforsometime?No,MeesterOuf,nobody.Iturnedofftheshower,torebackintomyclothesandwentoutintoConstitutionSquare.Iwentroundallthecafés,peeredintoallthetaxis,wentbacktoZonar’s,toTom’s,toZaporiti’s,toallthefashionableplacesinthearea;unabletothink,unabletodoanythingbutsayhernameandcrushitsavagelybetweenmyteeth.Alison.Alison.Alison.Iunderstood,howIunderstood.OnceIhadaccepted,andIhadtoaccept,thefirstincrediblefact:thatshemusthaveagreedtojointhemasque.Buthowcouldshe?Andwhy?Againandagain:why.Iwentbacktothehotel.Conchiswouldhavediscoveredaboutthequarrel,perhapsevenoverheardit;ifheusedcameras,hecouldusemicrophonesandtaperecorders.Contactedherduringthenight,orearlythenextmorning.PerhapsthroughLily.ThosemessagesintheEarth:Hirondelle.ThepeopleinthePiraeushotel,watchingmetrytogethertoletmebackintoherroom.AssoonasImentionedAlison,Conchismusthaveprickeduphisears.

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