After he had assured Luster that he really could find a nightshirt all by himself, and then helped the man, who apologized with every step, to a cot in the dressing room, Nez took himself to bed. Juan did nothing more than sigh, and cuddle close, which turned out to be a blessing, because the night was cool. I should be worried about this dreadful situation, Nez thought as he relaxed. Churl that I am, I will let Liria worry about it in the morning. Sleep came closer. It should be a sad reflection on the state of my mind that I am so willing to turn my troubles over to someone else, he considered. The only place where I couldn’t do that was the Peninsula, and wasn’t that an uncomfortable state of affairs for a man of indolence? The idea made him smile in the dark, because he knew how little indolence had ever entered his mind through Portugal, Spain, France, and ultimately Belgium. Libby is right, he thought; I could be redeemed. Tentatively, Nez stretched out his arm and allowed Juan to settle into the hollow of his shoulder.
