He rings for the chambermaid,
and explains to her that she has shown him into the wrong room. He
wanted a bedroom.
She says: "This IS a bedroom."
He says: "Where's the bed?"
"There!" she says, pointing to the box on which the sacks and
antimacassars and cushions lie piled.
"That!" he cries. "How am I going to sleep in that?"
The chambermaid does not know how he is going to sleep there, never
having seen a gentleman go to sleep anywhere, and not knowing how
they set about it; but suggests that he might try lying down flat,
and shutting his eyes.
"But it is not long enough," he says.
The chambermaid thinks he will be able to manage, if he tucks his
legs up.
He sees that he will not get anything better, and that he must put
up with it.
"Oh, very well!" he says. "Look sharp and get it made, then."
She says: "It is made."
He turns and regards the girl sternly. Is she taking advantage of
his being a lonely stranger, far from home and friends, to mock him?
He goes over to what she calls the bed, and snatching off the top-
most sack from the pile and holding it up, says:
