"I'm not sayin' nothin'. Not until I get a mouthpiece."
The newcomer started off on another tack. "My name is Lawrence
Reston-Farrell. If I am not mistaken, you are Joseph Salviati-Prantera."
Salviati happened to be Joe's mother's maiden name. But it was unlikely
this character could have known that. Joe had been born in Naples and
his mother had died in childbirth. His father hadn't brought him to the
States until the age of five and by that time he had a stepmother.
"I wanta mouthpiece," Joe said flatly, "or let me outta here."
Lawrence Reston-Farrell said, "You are not being constrained. There are
clothes for you in the closet there."
Joe gingerly tried swinging his feet to the floor and sitting up, while
the other stood watching him, strangely. He came to his feet. With the
exception of a faint nausea, which brought back memories of that extreme
condition he'd suffered during ... during what? He hadn't the vaguest
idea of what had happened.
He was dressed in a hospital-type nightgown. He looked down at it and
snorted and made his way over to the closet. It opened on his approach,
the door sliding back into the wall in much the same manner as the
room's door had opened for Reston-Farrell.