And yet, once seated at the table, he ate more than ever with a mechanical and distraught avidity.
He needed to stroll around, to talk with somebody, in order that time might fly by with greater rapidity, beguiling his uneasy wait.

She would not return to the hotel until very late....

And he therefore retired to his room earlier than usual, believing with illogical superstition that by so doing Freya might arrive earlier.
His first movement upon finding himself alone in his room, was one of pride.

He looked up at the ceiling, pitying the enamored sailor that a week before had been dwelling on the floor above.

Poor man! How they must have made fun of him!...