She remained some time in the water, trying to contract some illness or other⁠—alas, she was, and remained, quite sound. She departed in anguish and despair, deaf to all the consolations her parents could give. ‘What shall I do down there?’ she kept crying. ‘This is my home!’ I never heard what became of her.⁠—But you are not listening, Engineer. Unless I am much mistaken, simply remaining on your legs costs you an effort. Lieutenant!” he addressed himself to Joachim, who was just coming up. “Take your cousin and put him to bed. He unites the virtues of courage and moderation⁠—but just now he is a little groggy.”

“No, really, I understood everything you said,” protested Hans Castorp. “The ‘silent sister’ is a mercury thermometer without figures⁠—you see, I got it all.”