Page:Krakatit (1925).pdf/34

 bered the word “fisherman”; but now there appeared before his eyes an empty petroleum tin. It was horrible. He said to himself “chair,” and he saw with astonishing clearness the tarred fence of a factory with a patch of dreary, dusty grass and some rusty hoops. This is insanity, he said to himself with cold clearness; this, gentleman, is typical madness, hyperofabula ugongi dugongi Darwin. This technical term for some unknown reason appeared to him to be excruciatingly funny. He positively gulped with laughter and woke up.

He was covered with sweat and had kicked off his bedclothes. With feverish eyes he watched Thomas, who was moving quickly about the room and throwing a few things into a suitcase; but he did not recognize him. “Listen, listen,” he began, “here’s a funny thing, listen, wait a moment, you must listen” He wanted to tell him as a great joke this extraordinary technical designation, and was already smiling in anticipation; but for the life of him he was unable to recall how exactly it had run. He became annoyed and was silent.

Thomas put on an ulster and a cap; but when he had already picked up the suitcase he hesitated and sat down on the end of Prokop’s bed. “Listen, old chap,” he said with concern, “I’ve got to go away now. To my father, in Tynice. If he doesn’t give me any money I shan’t come back, see? But don’t be worried about that. The doorkeeper’s wife will come in the morning and bring you a doctor, yes?”

“What’s the time?” asked Prokop indifferently.

“Four. Five past four. Perhaps there’s nothing you want, is there?”