"Mais monsieur," the concierge pressed, lowering his voice to an urgent whisper.
"I'm sorry," Langdon said, "but I'm very tired and-" Most likely, some religious scholar had trailed him home to pick a fight. Tonight's lecture-a slide show about pagan symbolism hidden in the stones of Chartres Cathedral-had probably ruffled some conservative feathers in the audience. Professor of Religious Symbology, Harvard University A visitor? His eyes focused now on a crumpled flyer on his bedside table. I apologize for this intrusion, but you have a visitor. He had been asleep only an hour, but he felt like the dead. "I hope I have not awoken you?"ĭazed, Langdon looked at the bedside clock. The jacquard bathrobe hanging on his bedpost bore the monogram:
Squinting at his surroundings he saw a plush Renaissance bedroom with Louis XVI furniture, hand-frescoed walls, and a colossal mahogany four-poster bed. He fumbled for the bedside lamp and turned it on. A telephone was ringing in the darkness-a tinny, unfamiliar ring.
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