As the day wore on Lorry grew irritable and restless. He could
not bring himself into full touch with the situation,
notwithstanding Harry's frequent and graphic recollections of
incidents that had occurred and that had led to their present
condition. Their luncheon was served in the Count's room, as it
was inadvisable for the injured man to go to the dining-hall
until he was stronger. The court physician assured him that he
would be incapacitated for several days, but that in a very short
time his wound would lose the power to annoy him in the least.
The Count and Countess Halfont, Anguish and others came to cheer
him and to make his surroundings endurable. Still he was
dissatisfied, even unhappy.

The cause of his uneasiness and depression was revealed only by
the manner in which it was removed. He was lying stretched out
on the couch, staring from the window, his head aching; his heart
full of a longing that knows but one solace. Anguish had gone
out in the
grounds after assuring himself that his charge was asleep, so
there was no one in the room when he awakened from a sickening
dream to shudder alone over its memory. A cool breeze from an
open window fanned his head kindly; a bright sun gleamed across
the trees, turning them into gold and purple and red and green; a
quiet repose was in all that touched him outwardly; inwardly
there was burning turmoil. He turned on his side and curiously
felt the bandages about his head. They were tight and smooth,
and he knew they were perfectly white. How lonely those bandages
made him feel, away off there in Graustark!