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           "Youhaven’tunderstoodthatit’sallaboutstartingagain."

           Rambertwentintoacorneroftheroomandputonalittlerecordplayer.

           "Whatisthatrecord?"askedTarrou."Iknowit."

           Rambertrepliedthatitwas"SaintJames’sInfirmaryBlues".

           Inthemiddleoftherecordtheyheardtwoshotsringoutinthedistance.

           "Adog,oranescape,"saidTarrou.

           Amomentlatertherecordendedandthesoundofanambulancebecameclearer,gotlouder,passedunderthewindowsofthehotelroom,decreased,thenfinallydiedaway.

           "Thatrecordisnotfunny,"saidRambert."AndI’vehearditatleasttentimestoday."

           "Doyoulikeitthatmuch?"

           "No,it’stheonlyoneIhave."

           And,amomentlater:

           "Itellyou—it’saboutstartingagain."

           HeaskedRieuxhowthehealthteamswereworking.Therewerefiveoftheminoperation,buttheyhopedtoformothers.Thejournalistwassittingonhisbedandappearedtobeconcentratingonhisnails.Rieuxlookedathisstocky,powerfulshapeonthecornerofthebed.HesuddenlybecameawarethatRambertwaslookingathim.

           "Youknow,doctor,"hesaid,"I’vethoughtalotaboutyourorganization.IfIhaven’tjoinedyou,there’sareasonforit.AnywayIthinkIcouldstillputmylifeontheline,IfoughtinSpain.