The handles on doors and windows were grimy, and an acrid paste coated the hands of the passengers who had hauled themselves aloft, and from there, via involuntary gestures of impatience, their faces, which bore dark streaks so that they resembled half-finished masks. The inside of the carriage looked like a homeless shelter. The passengers, who already had a long journey behind them, lay variously sprawled or hunched on benches, floor, and rows of suitcases. In the cool blue glow of a night-light, it was at first not easy to separate one figure from another in the tangle of arms and legs and heads. The sleepers were a single many-headed and many-limbed organism. Friedrich was afraid he might stumble and fall, and he was further irritated by the sounds of breathing all around him in every pitch. He had a feeling of having broken into some strangers' bedroom, and he was relieved when he finally found a place on the end of a bench, not far from the door. After his eyes had gotten used to the space and the light, he saw that he had joined a group of young people, who were all wearing different parts of the same naval uniform.
