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How
many
times
must
I
tell
that
lad
never
to
settle
himself
with
his
back
to
a
door
?
Hawat
cleared
his
throat
.
Paul
remained
bent
over
his
studies
.
A
cloud
shadow
passed
over
the
skylights
.
Again
,
Hawat
cleared
his
throat
.
Paul
straightened
,
spoke
without
turning
:
“
I
know
.
I
’
m
sitting
with
my
back
to
a
door
.
”
Hawat
suppressed
a
smile
,
strode
across
the
room
.
Paul
looked
up
at
the
grizzled
old
man
who
stopped
at
a
corner
of
the
table
.
Hawat
’
s
eyes
were
two
pools
of
alertness
in
a
dark
and
deeply
seamed
face
.
“
I
heard
you
coming
down
the
hall
,
”
Paul
said
.
“
And
I
heard
you
open
the
door
.
”
“
The
sounds
I
make
could
be
imitated
.
”
