Чума
Part II
Butinanother…Well,inanycase,theonethingthat’sclearisthatIfeelmuchbetterheresincewe’vehadtheplague."
Theothermanlistenedtohimspeaking.
"Howdoesonejointhisorganization?"
"Oh,it’snoteasy,"Cottardsaid."Comewithme."
Itwasfouro’clockintheafternoon.Thetownwasslowlycookingbeneathaleadensky.Alltheshopshadtheirblindsdown.Theroadswereempty.CottardandRamberttookstreetswitharcadesandwalkedalongforsometimewithoutsayinganything.Itwasoneofthosetimeswhentheplaguebecameinvisible.Thissilence,thisdeathofcoloursandmovement,couldbelongtosummerasmuchastothepestilence.Onecouldnottelliftheairwasheavywithmenace,orwithdustandscorchingheat.Youhadtolookandthinkyourselfbacktotheplague,whichonlybetrayeditspresencebynegativesigns.Cottard,whohadsomeaffinitywithit,pointedouttoRambert,forexample,thattherewerenodogsaround,thoughnormallytheywouldhavebeenlyingontheirsides,panting,justinsidedoorways,insearchofsomeunattainablecoolness.
TheytooktheBoulevarddesPalmiers,crossedtheparade-groundandwentdowntowardstheareaoftheport.Onthelefttherewasagreen-paintedcafeshadedbyaslantingawningmadeofcoarseyellowcloth.AstheywentinCottardandRambertwipedtheirforeheads.Theysatdownonfoldinggardenchairsinfrontofgreen,cast-irontables.Theroomwasentirelyempty.
