“Is there any book?”
“Yes,” said Pocket, without a moment’s premeditation. “There’s the book I was reading yesterday.”
“What was that?”
“Some Frenchman on hallucinations.”
“So you were reading that book!” remarked the doctor, with detestable aplomb. “I wondered who had taken it down. It is a poor book. I have destroyed it.”
“I’m sorry,” said Pocket, and tried to look it rather than revolted.
“I am not,” rejoined Baumgartner. “Even if it were a good book, it is no book for you at the present time. It is morbid to dwell on what is done and over.”
“If it is over,” murmured the boy.
“It is over!” said Baumgartner, fiercely.
“Well,” said Pocket, “I’m glad I read what he’d got to say about somnambulism.”