'This always happens when I'm on duty.' From the adjoining room are heard the voices of three young men, sitting there at a table on which are wine and the remains of supper.
One, a rather plain, thin, neat little man, sits looking with tired kindly eyes at his friend, who is about to start on a journey.

Another, a tall man, lies on a sofa beside a table on which are empty bottles, and plays with his watch-key.

A third, wearing a short, fur-lined coat, is pacing up and down the room stopping now and then to crack an almond between his strong, rather thick, but well-tended fingers.

He keeps smiling at something and his face and eyes are all aglow.

He speaks warmly and gesticulates, but evidently does not find the words he wants and those that occur to him seem to him inadequate to express what has risen to his heart.
'Now I can speak out fully,' said the traveller.