The night is very disturbed. No one can sleep. Toward morning we doze a little. I wake up just as it grows light. The doors stand open and I hear voices from the corridor. The others wake up too. One fellow who has been there a couple of days already explains it to us: “Up here in the corridor every morning the sisters say prayers. They call it Morning Devotion. And so that you can get your share, they leave the door open.”

No doubt it is well meant, but it gives us aches in our heads and bones.

“Such an absurdity!” I say, “just when a man dropped off to sleep.”

“All the light cases are up here, that’s why they do it here,” he replies.

Albert groans. I get furious and call out: “Be quiet out there!”

A minute later a sister appears. In her black and white dress she looks like a beautiful teacosy. “Shut the door, will you, sister?” says someone.