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Once
I
had
the
coverings
off
,
and
had
found
out
that
I
could
see
in
the
dimness
,
I
felt
a
relief
that
I
’
d
never
known
before
.
Nevertheless
,
the
first
thing
I
did
after
assuring
myself
that
there
were
indeed
no
malicious
persons
or
things
lurking
under
the
bed
or
elsewhere
was
to
slip
a
chair
back
under
the
door
handle
.
I
could
and
did
begin
to
get
a
better
grip
on
myself
then
.
I
made
myself
take
a
full
hour
gradually
getting
used
to
full
daylight
.
At
the
end
of
it
I
knew
that
thanks
to
swift
first
aid
,
followed
by
good
doctoring
,
my
eyes
were
as
good
as
ever
.
But
still
no
one
came
.
On
the
lower
shelf
of
the
bedside
table
I
discovered
a
pair
of
dark
glasses
thoughtfully
put
ready
against
my
need
of
them
.
Cautiously
I
put
them
on
before
I
went
right
close
to
the
window
.
The
lower
pan
of
it
was
not
made
to
open
,
so
that
the
view
was
restricted
.
Squinting
down
and
sideways
,
I
could
see
one
or
two
people
who
appeared
to
be
wandering
in
an
odd
,
kind
of
aimless
way
farther
up
the
street
.
But
what
struck
me
most
,
and
at
once
,
was
the
sharpness
,
the
clear
definition
of
everything
-
even
the
distant
housetops
view
across
the
opposite
roofs
.
And
then
I
noticed
that
no
chimney
,
large
or
small
,
was
smoking
.
.
.
.
I
found
my
clothes
hung
tidily
in
a
cupboard
.
I
began
to
feel
more
normal
once
I
had
them
on
.
There
were
some
cigarettes
still
in
the
case
.
I
lit
one
and
began
to
get
into
the
state
of
mind
where
,
though
everything
was
still
undeniably
queer
,
I
could
no
longer
understand
why
I
had
been
quite
so
near
panic
.
It
is
not
easy
to
think
oneself
back
to
the
outlook
of
those
days
.
We
have
to
he
more
self
-
reliant
now
.
But
then
there
was
so
much
routine
,
things
were
so
interlinked
.
Each
one
of
us
so
steadily
did
his
little
part
in
the
right
place
that
it
was
easy
to
mistake
habit
and
custom
for
the
natural
law
-
and
all
the
more
disturbing
,
therefore
,
when
the
routine
was
in
any
way
upset
.
When
almost
half
a
lifetime
has
been
spent
in
one
conception
of
order
,
reorientation
is
no
five
-
minute
business
.
Looking
back
at
the
shape
of
things
then
,
the
amount
we
did
not
know
and
did
not
care
to
know
about
our
daily
lives
is
not
only
astonishing
but
somehow
a
bit
shocking
.
I
knew
practically
nothing
,
for
instance
,
of
such
ordinary
things
as
how
my
food
reached
me
,
where
the
fresh
water
came
from
,
bow
the
clothes
I
wore
were
woven
and
made
,
how
the
drainage
of
cities
kept
them
healthy
.
Our
life
had
become
a
complexity
of
specialists
,
all
attending
to
their
own
jobs
with
more
or
less
efficiency
and
expecting
others
to
do
the
same
.
That
made
it
incredible
to
me
,
therefore
,
that
complete
disorganization
could
have
overtaken
the
hospital
.
Somebody
somewhere
,
I
was
sure
,
must
have
it
in
hand
-
unfortunately
it
was
a
somebody
who
had
forgotten
all
about
Room
48
.
Nevertheless
,
when
I
did
go
to
the
door
again
and
peer
into
the
corridor
I
was
forced
to
realize
that
,
whatever
bad
happened
,
it
was
affecting
a
great
deal
more
than
the
single
inhabitant
of
Room
48
.
Just
then
there
was
no
one
in
sight
,
though
in
the
distance
I
could
hear
a
pervasive
murmur
of
voices
.
There
was
a
sound
of
shuffling
footsteps
,
too
,
and
occasionally
a
louder
voice
echoing
hollowly
in
the
corridors
,
but
nothing
like
the
din
I
had
shut
out
before
.
This
time
I
did
not
shout
.
I
stepped
out
cautiously
-
why
cautiously
?
I
don
’
t
know
.
There
was
just
something
that
induced
it
.
It
was
difficult
in
that
reverberating
building
to
tell
where
the
sounds
were
coming
from
,
but
one
way
the
passage
finished
at
an
obscured
French
window
,
with
the
shadow
of
a
balcony
rail
upon
it
,
so
I
went
the
other
.
Rounding
a
corner
,
I
found
myself
out
of
the
private
-
room
wing
and
on
a
broader
corridor
.
