"You needn't stare," said the warden. "We know the situation. In any case the sheets on your bed have to be changed and sent to the laundry. You won't be washing them yourself, not brought up to..." Pepper understood. The warden was very frightened and was being rude to keep his spirits up. He was in that state where one touch and he would cry out, squeal, twitch convulsively, call for help.
"Come on, come on," said the warden and pulled the pillow from beneath Pepper's head in a sort of weird impatience. "Sheets, I said..."
"Look, what is this," said Pepper. "Does it have to be now? In the night?" "Urgent."
"Good God," said Pepper, "you're off your head. Well, all right... You collect the sheets, I'll get by. I've only got this one night left."
He slid from the bunk onto the chilly floor and began stripping the pillowcase off. The warden, as if frozen to the spot, followed his movements with bulging eyes. His lips quivered.
"Repairs," he said finally. "Repairs got to be done. All the wallpaper's peeling off, the ceiling's cracked, the floors need re-laying..." His voice took on a firmer note. "So you've got to vacate in any case. We're starting repairs right away here."
"Repairs?"
"Repairs. Look at that wallpaper. The workmen will be here directly."
"What, now?"
"Right now. Why wait? The ceiling's full of cracks. Just take a look."
Pepper began to shiver. He left the pillowcase and picked up his shorts.
"What's the time?" he asked.
"Well after twelve," said the warden, again whispering, and, forsome reason, glancing around.
"Where on earth shall I go?" said Pepper, pausing with one leg in his shorts. "You'll have to fix me up. Another room..."
"Full up. And where it isn't, repairs are under way."
"In the duty room, then."
"Full up."
Pepper stared at the moon in despair.
"Well, the storeroom will do," he said. "The storeroom, the laundry, the isolation ward. I've only got six more hours to sleep. Or maybe you can fix me up in your place..."
The warden began rushing about the room. He ran between the bunks, barefoot, white, and terrible as a specter. Then he stopped and groaned:
"What a business, eh? I'm a civilized man as well, graduate of two colleges, I'm not a savage or anything... I know it all. But it's impossible, get me? It's absolutely out of the question!"
He bounded up to Pepper and whispered in his ear, "Your visa has run out! Twenty-seven minutes ago it ran out and you're still here. You mustn't be here. I beg you..." He collapsed onto his knees and drew Pepper's boots and socks out from under the bed. "I woke up at five to twelve covered in sweat," he mumbled. "Well, I thought, this is it. This is the end of me. I ran off just as I was. I don't remember a thing. Clouds over the streets, nails catching my feet - and my wife's expecting! Get dressed, please, get dressed..."
Pepper got dressed in a hurry. He found it hard to think. The warden kept running between the bunks, shuffling across the moonlit squares, now glancing out into the corridor, now looking out of the window, whispering, "Good lord, what a business."
"Can I at least leave my suitcase with you?" inquired Pepper.
The warden clacked his teeth.
"Not at any price! You'll be the ruin of me... You might have some sympathy... Good lord, good lord..."
Pepper gathered his books together, closing his case with difficulty, and picked up his raincoat. "Where shall I go now?" he asked.
The warden was mute. He waited fidgeting with impatience. Pepper hefted his suitcase and went off down the dark and silent staircase to the street. He paused on the verandah and while attempting to control his shivering, spent some time listening to the warden instructing the somnolent duty clerk: "He'll ask for readmittance. Don't let him in! He's got ... [inaudible sinister whisper] Got it! You're responsible..." Pepper sat down on his suitcase and placed his raincoat across his knees.
"I'm afraid not, sorry," said the warden behind him. "I must ask you to leave the verandah. I must ask you to vacate the hotel premises completely."
He had to go down and put his case on the roadway. The warden stamped around, muttering: "I must ask you... My wife ... and no fuss... Consequences ... can't be done..." and left, white underwear gleaming, stealing along the fence. Pepper glanced at the dark windows of the cottages, the dark windows of the Directorate, the dark windows of the hotel. There was no light anywhere, even the street lighting was off. There was only the moon, round, brilliant, and somehow malevolent.
