“One of the things I do remember about last night is that people kept buying me drinks,” I said defensively. “It kind of caught me by surprise, and I thought it would be rude to refuse.”
“Even if you have to accept drinks to be social, there’s nothing that says what you drink has to be alcoholic,” Bunny shot back. “There are other things to drink, you know. You could always just have a soft drink or some fruit juice.”
Suddenly, I was very tired. Between my hangover and the new thoughts that had been thrust upon me, what little energy I had when I awoke was now depleted.
“Bunny,” I said, “I’m really not up to arguing with you right now. You’ve raised some interesting points, and I appreciate your bringing them to my attention. Give me some time to think about them. Okay? At the moment, all I want to do is curl up and die for a while.”
To her credit, Bunny didn’t continue to push her case. Instead, she became extremely solicitous.
“I’m sorry, Skeeve,” she said, laying a hand on my arm. “I didn’t mean to jump you like that while you were still drying out. Is there anything I can get you? A cold washrag, maybe?”
Actually, that sounded like a wonderful idea.
“If you would, please. I’d really appreciate it.”
She hopped off the bed and made for the washstand while I tried to find a more comfortable position.
After rearranging the pillows, I glanced over to see what was keeping her, only to find her standing stock still, staring at the wall.
“Bunny? Is there something wrong?” I called.
“I guess I was wrong,” she said in a strange tone, still staring at the wall.