Richard's room opened into the Consul's, and notwithstanding that his habit of smoking cigarettes was an abomination to his brother, the door between the rooms always remained open at night.

Each had his own particular method of undressing.

The Consul took off each garment in due order, folded it up, and laid it in its appointed place.

Richard, on the other hand, tore off his things and threw them about anyhow.

He then wrapped himself in his dressing-gown, and sat down and smoked till his brother was ready.
"He is the very devil, that Worse!" said the _attache_, leaning back in the armchair; "but it does me good to hear any one speak out his mind so plainly." "He is too violent; he forgets conventionalities." "It is possible to have too much conventionality.