The fates are never so kind to me. Give me the keys and the light. '" "What is that?" she asked. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. Perhaps he had heard of this Enschede. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors.
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