After breakfast (and an eternity) has passed, Spike could have easily excused himself and gone out the front door without anyone stopping him. Unfortunately, the breakfast left him too close to the room that had kept him so transfixed the previous night, and the company that kept him from saying a word about it made him dwell on it like an old stubborn obsession. That's why he waits until they've dispersed in their separate directions to find him again. As predictable as Joshua likes to say he is, he must be expecting him anyway. Walking in the direction a maid points him isn't exactly secretive in the first place; he's positive someone will announce the whole thing before he has a chance at surprises.

This train of thought would have continued in its usual spiral, but suddenly the hallway looks familiar and he slows down, stopping altogether when he reaches a certain door that he hasn't seen since he kicked it down. One he never offered to put back up, seeing as how he never meant to come back.

What was it he said about this place? If it represents his death, what does the room say about him? -- It's annoying that he can recall that conversation so easily. He's been listening. Never a good sign.

Before he can work out the logic behind his actions, his hand is on the doorknob, and he turns it. Mild curiosity to see if it's still locked. That's all.