Stellan nodded. Donald was right! He felt suddenly so unused, mossy, moldy. Yes, here he remains. And here he would go one and a half years. But the moment after he became angry. He was going to say with a sneer: – We can not be all cadets. But now it was too late. Donald had already gone back to his family. Stellan turned and looked at him. Dirk was dangling at his left side. Stellan felt as if it directed straight at his heart. And while it started to clap harder, as if it wanted out, away, away.

He was standing on the street for a long time. He suddenly knew not what he would do. Where would he go? What was it he would do out there? Nothing. He had no other plan than to go a few times on West Main Street.

He turned slowly and walked back home. Would it never come to an end this? Was there no way to get away?

He was sitting at my desk and staring straight ahead, while the discomfort dug into his chest.

On the afternoon Donald visited, the cadet jacket, starched shirts and closed position collar. It was a melancholy uncertainty over the meeting. They had not seen each other for a couple of years. In the summer, had Donald been at sea and Christmases had Stellan spent in Lund. The two foster-brothers did not know quite what they were talking about. Stellan told of old comrades, Donald pretended to have forgotten that he suddenly claimed to remember with a: – Well the, oh, he, yes, now I remember – - – Donald For its part, wanted to talk about the Naval Academy.

In the end, said Stellan:

– Do not you think I have changed me much, since we last met?

Donald Moller looked at him surprised:

– Changed You? Not a bloody penal. By the way, why would you have changed you, you, who have gone here and stomping all the time.