Israel Kafka found himself seated in the corner of a comfortable carriage with Keyork Arabian at his side.

He opened his eyes quite naturally, and after looking out of the window stretched himself as far as the limits of the space would allow.

He felt very weak and very tired.

The bright colour had left his olive cheeks, his lips were pale and his eyes heavy.
"Travelling is very tiring," he said, glancing at Keyork's face.
The old man rubbed his hands briskly and laughed.
"I am as fresh as ever," he answered.

"It is true that I have the happy faculty of sleeping when I get a chance and that no preoccupation disturbs my appetite." Keyork Arabian was in a very cheerful frame of mind.