“Good,” he answered, and rose. But he was giddy from long lying, and the unrefreshing half-slumber had made his face burn anew; yet he felt chilly; perhaps he had not been well enough covered as he lay.

He washed his eyes and hands, brushed his hair, put his clothing to rights, and met Joachim outside in the corridor.

“Did you hear that Herr Albin?” he asked, as they went down the steps.

“I should say I did,” his cousin answered. “The man ought to be disciplined⁠—disturbing the whole rest period with his gabble, and exciting the ladies so that it puts them back for weeks. A piece of gross insubordination. But who is there to denounce him? On the contrary, that sort of thing makes quite a welcome diversion.”

“Do you think he would really do it⁠—put a bullet into himself? It’s a ‘very simple matter,’ to use his own words.”