“No, Herr Hofrat, I don’t look at it in that light. I must join my regiment.”

“Even though I tell you I can surely discharge you in half a year, but not before?”

Joachim’s bearing became even more correct. He took in his stomach, and replied, repressed and curt: “I have been here a year and a half, Herr Hofrat. I cannot wait any longer. Originally it was to have been three months. Since then it has been increased, first another three, then another six, and so on, and still I am not cured.”

“Is that my fault?”

“No, Herr Hofrat. But I cannot wait any longer. If I don’t want to miss my opportunity, I cannot wait to make my full cure up here. I must go down now. I need a little time for my equipment and other arrangements.”

“Your family knows what you are doing⁠—do they consent?”