"Good.
Then we'll wait below in the hall for you."
She went to the wardrobe to take out a dress.
I profited by the occasion to put the crumpled temperature chart in my pocket.
"Right then, Pat; see you in a minute?"
"Robby." She followed me and put her arms round my neck. "I wanted to tell you so many things."
"I you too, Pat.
But now we have plenty of time.
We'll tell each other things all day long: To-morrow.
It doesn't go somehow at the start."
She nodded.
"Yes, we'll tell one another everything.
Then we'll know all about each other as if we had never been separated."
"So we haven't been, anyway," said I. ,
She smiled.
"Not I.
I haven't so much strength.
It was worse for me.
I can't comfort myself with thoughts when I am alone.
I'm alone, that's all I know.
It is easier to be alone without love."
She was smiling still. It was a glassy smile; she held on to it, but you could see through it. "Pat," said I, "brave old lad."
"It's a long time since I heard that," said she, and her eyes were full of tears.
I went down to Koster.
The bags were already unloaded.
They had given us two rooms next each other in the annex.
"Take a look at that," said I showing him the temperature chart. "It goes up and down."
We walked over the crunching snow up the steps.
"Ask the doctor to-morrow," said Koster. "You can't tell anything from the temperature alone."
"I can tell enough," I replied and screwed it up and stuck it in my pocket again.
We washed.
Then Koster came to my room.
He looked as if he had just got up.
"You must dress, Bob," said he.
"Yes." I waked out of my brown study and unpacked my bag.
We went back to the sanatorium.
Karl was still standing outside.
Koster had hung a rug over the radiator.
"When do we go back, Otto?"
He stopped.
"I think I'll go to-morrow night or next morning early.
You stay here, though."
"How am I to do that, then?" I replied desperately. "My money will hold out only for ten days at the outside. And the sanatorium is paid for Pat only to the fifteenth.
I must go back and earn.
From the looks of it they won't be wanting any bad pianists here."
Koster bent over Karl's radiator and lifted the rug.
"I'll get money for you," said he, straightening. "You can stay here and don't worry on that score."
"Otto," said I, "I know how much you have over from the sale.
Not three hundred marks."
"I don't mean that.