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           Hisstrongshoulderswerehunched.Someoneknockedonthedoorandamalenursecameinwearingawhitemask.HeputdownabundleoffilingcardsonTarrou’sdeskand,hisvoicemuffledbythemask,justsaid"six",thenwentout.Tarroulookedatthejournalistandfannedoutthecardstoshowhim.

           "Nicecards,aren’tthey?Well,no,actuallythey’rethepeoplewhodiedlastnight."

           Hisforeheadwrinkled.Hegatheredupthebundleofcards.

           "Theonlythingwe’vegotleftisstatistics."

           Tarrougotup,supportinghimselfagainstthetable.

           "Areyouleavingsoon?"

           "Tonightatmidnight."

           TarrousaidhewasgladandthatRamberthadbetterlookafterhimself.

           "Doyoureallymeanthat?"

           Tarroushruggedhisshoulders.

           "Atmyage,you’vegottomeanwhatyousay.It’stootiringtolie."

           "Tarrou,"thejournalistsaid."I’dliketoseethedoctor.Excuseme."

           "Iknow,he’smorehumanthanIam.Let’sgo."

           "That’snotit,"Rambertsaidawkwardly.Thenhestopped.

           Tarroulookedathimandsmiledsuddenly.

           Theywentdownalittlecorridor,withitswallspaintedlightgreen,wherethelightwaslikethatinanaquarium.