“White trousers,” say I, “but a girl like that⁠—”

We look askance at one another. There’s not much to boast of here⁠—two ragged, stained, and dirty uniforms. It is hopeless to compete.

So we proceed to tear the young man with the white trousers off the hoarding, taking care not to damage the girl. That is something toward it.

“We could go and get deloused, anyway,” Kropp then suggests.

I am not very enthusiastic because it doesn’t do one’s clothes any good and a man is lousy again inside two hours. But when we have considered the picture once more, I declare myself willing. I go even farther.

“We might see if we could get a clean shirt as well⁠—”

“Socks might be better,” says Albert, not without reason.

“Yes, socks too perhaps. Let’s go and explore a bit.”