There were thirty white cots in the newborn babies’ ward, a long room with a lot of windows, which were all wide open. Some of the babies were sleeping and others were wailing in weak little voices. Nurses went in and out. Through the windows you could see green trees, square mown lawns, gravel paths, and green-painted benches. A tall blonde nurse, who already knew Gurdweill, led him to number 26, took Martin out of his cot, and gave him to his father with the words, ‘He’s a good boy; he never cries!’ adding immediately, as she did every day, ‘No kissing, and don’t touch his mouth!’ She stood and watched as Gurdweill held the baby wrapped in white swaddling clothes, and smiled at him with a feeling of happiness that knew no bounds. The tiny face, which had been almost featureless at birth, was developing from day to day, and Gurdweill rejoiced.

‘Well, my lad,’ he said aloud, ‘so we’ve got a nose, and a chin too, and a smiling mouth, just like a proper man. Like Goethe, for instance, or Kant. And that’s the main thing, right? And it won’t be long before we’ll be walking too. And until then we’ll carry you wherever you want to go, I promise you.’

He became aware of the nurse standing next to him and felt a little silly. He smiled in embarrassment and said, ‘So he’s a good little chap, is he, and he doesn’t cry — I’m delighted to hear it!’

At that moment the baby pursed up his mouth and began to wail. Gurdweill rocked him in his arms. He suddenly felt a strange desire to throw him up in the air like a ball and catch him, but he controlled himself immediately. He clucked his tongue at him, but the baby went on crying. The nurse took him away and returned him to his cot.

‘That’s enough! We mustn’t tire him.’

It was time for Gurdweill to go, but before leaving he bent over the cot and said, as if the baby could understand him, ‘Really, sir, you’re making yourself ridiculous! What a way to behave! But if you must — then by all means go ahead! A little crying never hurt anyone. Daddy’s going to buy you a beautiful carriage soon, just wait and see. A proper palace for His Majesty!’

The baby suddenly stopped crying, as if consoled by the idea of the carriage.

‘That’s better!’ said Gurdweill, and started walking away backwards, waving goodbye. He walked down the long corridor and went to see his wife. Thea was sitting up in bed and talking to her neighbour. Gurdweill glanced at the temperature chart hanging at the foot of her bed and found it to his satisfaction.

‘And how are you, rabbit?’ Thea interrupted her conversation to ask. ‘Have you seen the little one?’