"What is this caprice?
Are you mad?
I want to take his temperature without waking him." Unorna folded her arms.
"Do you want him to suffer more ?" asked Keyork with a diabolical smile.
"If so I will wake him by all means; I am always at your service, you know." "Will he suffer, if he wakes naturally ?" "Horribly--in the head." Unorna knelt down and let her hand rest a few seconds on Kafka's brow.
The features, drawn with pain, immediately relaxed.
"You have hypnotised the one," grumbled Keyork as he bent down again.

"I cannot imagine why you should object to doing the same for the other." "The other ?" Unorna repeated in surprise.
"Our friend there, in the arm chair." "It is not true.

He fell asleep of himself." Keyork smiled again, incredulously this time.

He had already applied his pocket-thermometer and looked at his watch.

Unorna had risen to her feet, disdaining to defend herself against the imputation expressed in his face.