"Do you want us all to catch our death of cold, sergeant? Besides it's the rule that doors must be kept shut at night."
Guillaumin raised himself, and whispered to me:
"The chap's quite right, you know!"
"How's that?"
"The poilus will roll off into the scenery when they go to sleep."
This prospect was disquieting. I said no more, but let them do as they liked. A minute afterwards I complained of the stuffiness.
"Why not have the ventilator opened?" Guillaumin suggested.
"What ventilator?"
He was obliging enough to get up and feel about to find the bolt. The shutter slid along in the groove. A scrap of sky showed through, and some fleecy clouds shining in the moonlight. I announced that I should like to spend my night at the window.
"Are you quite off your chump? Try to have a snooze!"