Whilst I dashed up the stairs to join her, she added: I cannot promise you that she will entirely understand who you are. She speaks little, and when she does, she is generally confused; I gave her an injection of morphia for the pain not long ago, so she is sleepy as well. Be patient.I shall, I answered warmly, though at the moment I was thinking of Mary not at all, but rather how I might convince Frau Koehler to leave. I was quite sated from the night before, to the point that the thought of dining upon her stalwart German blood made me queasy. So I was not inclined to use supernatural force upon the Frau; one quick drink from Mary, that was all I could manage, and then I would be gone.My cavalier attitude vanished once I stepped into the room and was greeted by the duelling smells of piss and foul shit. Frau Koehler had done what she could to minimise it: the window was open, a candle flickered in the slight breeze, and a bedpan soaked in a tub full of soapy water.It was all I could do to keep from covering my nose with my kerchief; but Frau Koehler seemed to notice it not at all.
