'I'll tell Lauder then,' said Guillam, and left. Move, he thought. In the men's room he waited thirty seconds at the basins, watching the door in the mirror and listening. A curious quiet had descended over the whole floor. Come on, he thought, you're getting old, move. He crossed the corridor, stepped boldly into the duty officers' room, closed the door with a slam and looked round. He reckoned he had ten minutes and he reckoned that a slammed door made less noise in that silence than a door surreptitiously closed.
Le Carré, Tinker Tailor Solider Spy. Photograph, St Petersburg, Russia