Gustav. Initiative, of course; and the inevitable result was that the angel came precious near taking him away to heaven. He first had to be on the cross and feel the nails in his flesh.
Adolf [suffocating]. Tell me, what was it like?
Gustav [slowly]. There were times when he and I would sit quite quietly by each other and chat, and then—I'd scarcely been speaking a few minutes before his face became ashy white, his limbs were paralyzed, and his thumbs turned in towards the palm of the hand. [With a gesture.] Like that! [Adolf imitates the gesture.] And his eyes were shot with blood, and he began to chew, do you see, like this. [He moves his lips as though chewing; Adolf imitates him again.] The saliva stuck in his throat; the chest contracted as though it had been compressed by screws on a joiner's bench; there was a flicker in the pupils like gas jets; foam spurted from his mouth, and he sank gently back in the chair as though he were drowning. Then—
Adolf [hissing]. Stop!
Gustav. Then—are you unwell?
Adolf. Yes.
Gustav [gets up and fetches a glass of water from the table on the right near the center door]. Here, drink this, and let's change the subject.
Adolf [drinks, limp]. Thanks; go on.
Gustav. Good! When he woke up he had no idea what had taken place. [He takes the glass back to the table.] He had simply lost consciousness. Hasn't that ever happened to you?
Adolf. Now and again I have attacks of dizziness. The doctor puts it down to anæmia.