Across the room the military buffers looked on at the operette; occasionally a joke, incomprehensible, at the expense of the naked, was called across from the military papas to the fellows who may have been doctors. The place was full of an indescribable tone of jeering, gibing shamelessness. Somers stood in his street jacket and thin legs and beard--a sight enough for any gods--and waited his turn. Then he took off the jacket and was cleanly naked, and stood to be measured and weighed--being moved about like a block of meat, in the atmosphere of corrosive derision. Then he was sent to the next section for eye-tests, and jokes were called across the room. Then after a time to the next section, where he was made to hop on one foot--then on the other foot--bend over--and so on: apparently to see if he had any physical deformity. In due course to the next section where a fool of a little fellow, surely no doctor, eyed him up and down and said: “Anything to complain of?” “Yes,” said Somers. “I’ve had pneumonia three times and been threatened with consumption.” “Oh. Go over there then.” So in his stalky, ignominious nakedness he was sent over to another section, where an elderly fool turned his back on him for ten minutes, before looking round and saying: “Yes. What have you to say?” Somers repeated. “When did you have pneumonia?” Somers answered--he could hardly speak, he was in such a fury of rage and humiliation. “What doctor said you were threatened with consumption? Give his name.” This in a tone of sneering scepticism. The whole room was watching and listening. Somers knew his appearance had been anticipated, and they wanted to count him out. But he kept his head. The elderly fellow then proceeded to listen to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope, jabbing the end of the instrument against the flesh as if he wished to make a pattern on it. Somers kept a set face. He knew what he was out against, and he just hated and despised them all. The fellow at length threw the stethoscope aside as if he were throwing Somers aside, and went to write. Somers stood still, with a set face, and waited. Then he was sent to the next section, and the stethoscoping doctor strolled over to the great judgment table. In the final section was a young puppy, like a chemist’s assistant, who made most of the jokes. Jokes were all the time passing across the room--but Somers had the faculty of becoming quite deaf to anything that might disturb his equanimity.