Чума
Part I
Cottardsuddenlygraspedthedoorand,beforehurryingaway,criedoutinavoicefulloftearsandfury:
"Anearthquake!Arealone!"
Therewasnoearthquakeand,forRieux,thefollowingdaypassedmerelyinlongtripstothefourcornersoftown,discussionswithhispatients’familiesandtalkswiththepatientsthemselves.Neverhadhefoundhisjobsohardtobear.Uptothen,sickpeoplehadmadeiteasyforhim,theyhadcomehalfwaytomeethim.Now,forthefirsttime,thedoctorfeltthattheywerereticent,retreatingintothedepthsoftheirillnesswithakindofsuspiciousastonishment.Thiswasastruggletowhichhehadnotyetbecomeaccustomed.Aroundteno’clock,stoppinghiscarinfrontofthehouseoftheoldasthmapatientwhomhealwayswenttovisitlast,Rieuxfoundithardtoriseoutofhisseat.Hestayedthere,lookingatthedarkstreetandthestarsappearinganddisappearingintheblacksky.
Theoldasthmaticwassittingupinbed.Heseemedtobebreathingmoreeasilyandwascountingchick-peasashetransferredthemfromonesaucepantoanother.Hegreetedthedoctorcheerfully.
"Sodoctor,isitcholera?"
"Wheredidyougetthatidea?"
"Inthepaper.Theradiosaysthesamething."
"No,it’snotcholera.
