“No, they keep us pretty cool,” answered Joachim. “The weather would have to be different from this before they put on the heat in August.”

“August, August!” said Hans Castorp. “But I am cold, abominably cold; I mean in my body, for my face burns shockingly⁠—just feel it!”

This demand was entirely foreign to the young man’s nature⁠—so much so that he himself was disagreeably impressed as he heard himself make it. Joachim did not take up the offer, but merely said: “That is the air⁠—it doesn’t mean anything; Behrens himself is purple in the face all day long. Some people never get used to it. Come along now, do, or we shan’t get anything to eat.”