“Goodness knows! Notes of some sort”...
“What will you do with them?”
“What? I’ll have cartridges made of them.”
“Hand them over to me instead.”
He looked at me in surprise, growled something through his teeth, and began to rummage in his portmanteau. Out he drew a writing-book and threw it contemptuously on the ground; then a second—a third—a tenth shared the same fate. There was something childish in his vexation, and it struck me as ridiculous and pitiable...
“Here they are,” he said. “I congratulate you on your find!”...
“And I may do anything I like with them?”
“Yes, print them in the newspapers, if you like. What is it to me? Am I a friend or relation of his? It is true that for a long time we lived under one roof... but aren’t there plenty of people with whom I have lived?”...
I seized the papers and lost no time in carrying them away, fearing that the staff-captain might repent his action. Soon somebody came to tell us that the “Adventure” would set off in an hour’s time. I ordered the horses to be put to.
I had already put my cap on when the staff-captain entered the room. Apparently he had not got ready for departure. His manner was somewhat cold and constrained.