Leeds said that since the poisoning he always took a look around before going to bed, and I went on in the house and up to the little room where I had put my bag. I was sitting on the bed in pyjamas, scratching the side of my neck and considering Barry Rackham's last-minute remarks, when Leeds entered downstairs and came up to ask if I was comfortable. I told him I soon would be, and he said good night and went down the short hall to his room.

I opened a window, turned out the light, and got into bed; but in three minutes

I saw it wasn't working. My practice is to empty my head simultaneously with dropping it on the pillow. If something sticks and doesn't want to come out I'll give it up to three minutes but no more. Then I act. This time, of course, it was Barry Rackham that stuck. I had to decide that he knew what I was there for or that he didn't, or, as an alternative, decide definitely that I wouldn't try to decide until to-morrow. I got out of bed and went and sat on a chair.

It may have taken five minutes, or it could have been fifteen: I don't know.

Anyhow it didn't accomplish anything except getting Rackham unstuck from my head for the night, for the best I could do was decide for postponement. If he had his guard up, so far I had not got past it. With that settled, I got under the covers again, took ten seconds to get into position on a strange mattress, and was off this time…

Nearly, but not quite.