The mist had disappeared early and the view from the window was panoramic, with the mountains and the valley sharply etched. Charles sat propped up by the overstuffed pillows on the high feather bed. Earlier, a barber from the nearby town had come by to cut his hair and shave him, an old custom that gave the Baron pleasure. By the time the others began to arrive for breakfast, he was properly groomed and rouged. His image in the glass stared back with satisfaction while Karla, with compliments, buttressed his sense of well-being. He always felt stronger in the morning, a condition which faded as the day progressed, although he was able to marvel at the stamina he displayed at last night's dinner. "You look well, Father," Rudi said as he entered the room and walked to the edge of the bed. Two waiters had set a large round table and the smell of coffee and bacon was pervasive and tempting. Charles nodded to his second son, offering a thin smile. The plutonium matter had put his second son in a new light.
