I walked, I think, for about twenty minutes. A turn to the right, the corridor became wider, the small lamps brighter. There was a dim droning somewhere.⁠ ⁠… Was it a machine or voices? I did not know. I stood before a heavy, opaque door, from behind which came the noise. I knocked. Then I knocked again, louder. Now there was silence behind the door. Something clanked; the door opened slowly and heavily.

I don’t know which of us was the more dumbfounded; the thin blade-like doctor stood before me!

“You here!” his scissors opened and remained open.

And I, as if I did not know a human word, stood silent, merely stared, without comprehending that he was talking to me. He must have told me to leave, for with his thin paper stomach he slowly pressed me to the side, to the more brightly lighted end of the corridor and poked me in the back.

“Beg your pardon⁠ ⁠… I wanted⁠ ⁠… I thought that she, I-330 ⁠ ⁠… but behind me.⁠ ⁠…”