“The Well-Doer is the most perfect fumigation humanity needs, consequently no peristalsis in the organism of the United State could.⁠ ⁠…” I was writing this nonsense, pressing my trembling pen hard, and lower and lower my head bent over the table, and within me some sort of crazy forge.⁠ ⁠… With my back I was listening⁠ ⁠… and I heard the click of the doorknob.⁠ ⁠… A current of fresh air.⁠ ⁠… My armchair was dancing a mad dance.⁠ ⁠… Only then, and even then with difficulty, I tore myself away from the page, turned my head in the direction of the newcomers (how difficult it is to play a foul game!). In front of all was S- , morose, silent, swiftly drilling with his eyes deep shafts within me, within my armchair and within the pages which were twitching in my hands. Then for a second⁠—familiar, everyday faces at the door; one of them separated itself from the rest with its bulging, pinkish-brown gills.⁠ ⁠…

At once I recalled everything that happened in the same room half an hour ago and it was clear to me that they would presently.⁠ ⁠…