At that he stood up and went into Dr. Eitan’s room, holding the duster. First he changed the roll of paper sheets, which felt pleasantly rough to his fingertips. Then he tidied the drugs cupboard, pondering on his father’s anecdote about the length and width of railway tracks. He discovered he had a soft spot for the Israeli representative: in refusing to give way to his U.S. counterpart, he had delivered a devastating reply. It was only on the surface that it appeared funny: in fact, it was the American’s position that was ridiculous. As if there was any sense in his implied claim that in an international gathering of railway chiefs each delegate’s speech should be in direct relation to the length of track in his country. Such a crude approach was both morally untenable and logically absurd. While he was pursuing this line of thought further, he absent-mindedly attempted to take his own blood pressure with the device he found on Eitan’s desk. Perhaps it was because he had remarked jokingly to Tamar that Gad Eitan may not have been feeling well the day before, since he had failed to tyrannize her. But Fima’s efforts to bind the rubber tube, phylactery-like, around his arm with his free hand were unsuccessful, and he abandoned the attempt. He contemplated a colored poster on the wall: a humorous picture of a good-looking young man with a pregnant tummy holding a plump baby in his arms, the two of them beaming with joy. The wording read: “Materna 160—your vitamin supplement. Easy to take. Odorless. Tasteless. The leading product in the field. Widely endorsed by expectant mothers in the USA. Available strictly on medical prescription only.” One of the two words, “strictly” and “only,” was redundant, Fima mused, but for some reason he could not decide which to delete. The expression “leading product” struck him as crude, while “widely endorsed by expectant mothers” was positively offensive.

Moving on, he flicked an imaginary speck of dust from the examination couch. He struggled against the sudden urge to lie down with his legs apart for a minute or two, just to experience the sensation. He was certain there must be a mistake in Tamar’s crossword: the only country he could think of in Africa with eleven letters was South Africa, but that didn’t fit because it didn’t have two E’s. As though if it did have two E’s, everything there would be perfect!