He'd be blindinside the restroom, if anyone wanted to sneak up on him. Maybe hecould leave the door open? At least it was too small to hide anyonein...ide. He went in, his shoes sticking to the floor between steps. *OhGod, I thought women's rooms were supposed to be cleaner,* he thoughtironically. He left the door open. There was a mirror, and he dutifully checked himself out in the dimlight. He looked decent enough, he thought, though there was a line ofsweat on his brow. No. Altenberg was at his customary table.“Your highness.”“Did you have a good Christmas?”“Days are days. I ate, I drank, I read, I wrote.”“No celebration?”“I eschew primitive idolatry.”“Cruel.”“Ah, you believe in an ancient bearded entity clad in a nightshirt whose son was martyred to redeem the transgression of a remote ancestor?”“Crueler.” I turned to the waiter. “A large brown, please. Altenberg?”“Another eighth.”“Interesting. I was thinking of damnation.”“Oh?”“I was at Don Giovanni last week. More

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