‘Yes, but only once, and I went back immediately to put it right. And the second time I found the lights had turned themselves on when I returned to the room.’

‘That of course was related to the seignioral surcharge. You appear to have opened your room using the incorrect electronic key. That always turns all lights on as a reminder to the guest.’

‘Compensation for what?’ I said irritably. ‘And how does the seigniory apply a surcharge to people staying in your hotel?’

‘We have a contract with the electricity suppliers. If any of our guests interferes with the electrical mutability—’

‘But I’ve no idea what mutability is!’ I said too loudly.

‘Citizen sir, there is an explanatory booklet in every room.’ Her voice returned to its neutral note. ‘If a guest interferes with the electrical mutability a spike or a surge in the current follows, and the utility provider has to adjust the supply to the whole hotel.’ Her pen moved down to the third extra. ‘This one is because you entered your room using the incorrect key. We post warnings everywhere about that.’ She was still holding the bank card reader. ‘Sir, may I go ahead and scan your card?’

I stared down unhappily at the account, still with a feeling of disbelief, and a certain amount of panic. How could I possibly pay all this?

The receptionist moved away to attend to two other guests who had approached the desk.

I was travelling with two charge cards. One did not have a sufficient credit limit for me to put the hotel bill against. The other did have available credit, but it ran up a punitive rate of interest if the entire amount was not paid off within three weeks. There was really no choice therefore, but I was reluctant to use the second card. The immense charge and the inevitable interest penalty that followed would jeopardize my presently stable but often fragile finances, simply because of Wendow’s neglectful approach to my expenses. I could not imagine that he, earning a no doubt substantial professorial salary, would have the least idea of the trouble he was unwittingly causing me.

The receptionist returned, I proffered her the charge card, she ran it through the machine, she tore off a copy of the receipt. All was done.

‘Thank you for choosing the Dearth Plaza Hotel, Dr Fremde,’ she said. ‘We look forward to greeting you again. Please be sure to deposit your room key in the slot provided at the front of the desk.’

She smiled professionally at me and turned away to deal with other customers. I reached deep into my trouser pocket, found the key and slipped it into the return slot. I heard it fall with a plastic clicking noise as it landed in the heap of used key cards already in the receptacle. I was glad to be rid of the thing.