Chapter Fourteen
Randolph did indeed seem at least partially lucid. He raised his glass in a mock toast as Myrtle and Miles approached. “My old friends,” he said, half-standing in a courteous manner. At least he attempted the half-standing crouch, until he wobbled so much that he dropped back into the armchair again. “Good to see you. But then, I do usually run into you at night, don’t I. You don’t sleep either, is that it?”
Myrtle shrugged as she and Miles took the other seats in the little conversation area. “We sleep sometimes, just not others. I’ve found that the best thing for me to do when I can’t sleep is to get up and be productive.”
Randolph raised his eyebrows archly. “Really? I’ve found quite the opposite. I take the opportunity to rise and have another drink in the hopes of
