The next morning, Adèle appeared at his bedside. She had on a black silk dress, and Timar saw right away that she was wearing nothing underneath. He was startled; he had squirmed his way out of his pajamas in the middle of the night and was lying naked beneath the mosquito netting. But Adèle, the Central's landlady, with her plump arms and taunting eyes, seemed more amused than shocked. She asked what he wanted with breakfast - coffee, tea or hot chocolate - then, in the same breath, whether he was used to being woken by his mother back in Europe. The sarcasm wasn't lost on him, but her smile had something tender about it. He figured she was in her mid-thirties. She pushed the netting aside and said: "Look, you've been hit." Meaning he'd been bitten by a mosquito, on the chest. She sat down on the edge of the bed, scratched at the bump, and Timar did what came naturally - he took her in his arms.