By dint of standing on her bed, she had managed to open her window to its fullest extent, but the little room was still close and airless. She crept into Nicky's darkened—and blessedly cool—room and checked that he was deeply and peacefully asleep before using his bathroom to take a shower, and change into her brief cotton nightdress. Back in her own room, she stripped the covers from the bed and folded them neatly before lying down, but within minutes she was tossing uncomfortably, hardly able to breathe, her body already damp with perspiration. She considered lugging her mattress through to Nicky's room, but reluctantly decided against it. Yannina might take it into her head to check Nicky during the night, and if she found Harriet there on the floor it would simply result in embarrassment all round. In a hotel, you could complain about your room. In a private house, you had to grin and bear it, Harriet thought bitterly. For nearly two hours she tried to bear it, although she didn't grin very much.
