more like a jelly. It seemed to Prokop that the fat body was voicelessly tittering at him. He was unable to look at it any longer; he turned to the window, but there, out of the void, appeared a human face. At first he could not make out why it disconcerted him so; he stared at it with wide-open eyes to realize finally that it was another Prokop whose eyes were fixed on him with terrible earnestness. “What does he want?” said Prokop, terror-stricken. “My God! have I left that parcel in Thomas’s room?” He hastily went through his pockets and found the parcel in the inside one of his coat. Then the face in the window smiled and Prokop felt better. Finally he plucked up courage to look at the headless body and saw that all that had happened was that the man had pulled over his face a coat that was hanging from the rack and was asleep behind it. Prokop would have done the same but was afraid that some one would take the sealed package out of his pocket. And yet it was important for him to sleep; he was intolerably tired; he would never have been able to imagine that it was possible for him to be so tired. He dropped off, awoke with a start and dropped off again. The dark lady had one head bobbing on her shoulder and held the other in her lap with both hands; and as for the tailor, instead of him there were sitting empty, bodyless clothes, out of the top of which projected a porcelain pestle. Prokop fell asleep but suddenly started up with a feverish conviction that they were already in Tynice. Somebody outside had shouted the name out, or the train had stopped.
He rushed out and saw that it was already eve-
