"Do you have a room to let for the night?" he asked. "I'll pay you. A lot."
"Money in advance," the hungry painter said. He figured that since it was Saturday and the janitor wasn't coming in the morning, for one night he'd manage somehow. The man handed over a wad of small bills and demanded to be taken to his bed at once. On reaching the cupboard under the stairs, the man accepted the key, closed the door, collapsed on the floor, and grew quiet. Soon, the painter heard a long whistle, followed by a choking sound, then a mournful sigh. The painter thought that his tenant had suffocated without fresh air and tried to force the door open, but the man's prone body filled the entire space and the door wouldn't budge. He thought about taking the door off its hinges, but then the whistling, the choking, and the moaning were repeated again and again, and the painter realized that the tenant had simply fallen asleep.
