"That's proper," he said. "A patient should be bored."
"Oh, I am not a patient."
"Patientia is the Latin for 'patience,' my dear young lady. You are not a patient in so far as you are very impatient."
"If you let me have a cigarette, then I will say 'Yes, you are right.'"
"I know I am right, and there can be no question of your smoking now."
"But I want to smoke. You are impolite," she said, obstinately kicking up her heel.
Frederick ordered her to be quiet, and she let her foot drop again on the leather upholstery. He looked at her with an intentionally exaggerated expression of sternness.
"I am not your slave, do you understand? Do you think I left Odessa, where there is enough ordering about, to be ordered about by every stranger I meet?" she grumbled. "I am cold. Please shut the door."
"If you want, I will shut the door," said Frederick, getting up to do so with an air of resignation not altogether genuine.
In the morning in the steerage, Frederick and this Deborah had exchanged a glowing look of understanding. Now, although, or perhaps because, the wine was in his veins, he was eager for Doctor Wilhelm's return. His absence seemed to be unduly prolonged. For a time the girl lay silent. Frederick found it necessary to examine the tampon in her nostril. As he was doing so, he noticed tears in her eyes.