The Colonel draws nearer and says, smiling: "The main-spring is broken; the little animal is dead." He puts the body in the walnut box, which is too short and too narrow.

Cramped on every side, Leon struggles, strains and wakes himself up, worn out with fatigue and half smothered between the bed and the wall.
He quickly jumped into his slippers and eagerly raised the windows and pushed open the shutters.

"He made light, and saw that it was good," as is elsewhere written.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * Brrroum! He shook off the recollections of his dream as a wet dog shakes off drops of water.
The famous London chronometer told him that it was nine o'clock.

A cup of chocolate, served by Gothon, helped not a little to untangle his ideas.