Outside, evening had taken hold. The gas lights flickered in the wind, which had grown stronger. Gurdweill suddenly felt very tired. But he did not want to go home — what would he do there now? For a while he walked to and fro in front of the wire fence surrounding the hospital grounds, stopping from time to time and trying to look into the double-storeyed white building hidden in the garden, but without success. Then he crossed to the opposite pavement, from which only the lighted windows and curtains of the second storey were visible. He strained his eyes to look through the spotless white curtains — in vain. It was impossible to see anything. A crowded tram drove past with a clatter. Ah, what he would have given to be permitted to go inside again and see him! Just to peep at him once and leave again. At that moment a baby began to scream somewhere. A cold shiver ran through him. He could have sworn that it was Martin’s voice … it was exactly the way Martin cried! But he immediately told himself that it would have been impossible for his voice to carry over the grounds and across the street, and through the closed windows too. Nevertheless, he went on standing there and listening with a breaking heart to the baby, and he did not calm down until it stopped crying. He decided that it was time to go. He crossed the street again, and pressed his ear to the wire mesh, but he could not hear a sound. After a few minutes he began walking slowly away, dragging his feet listlessly, but he soon changed his mind, retraced his footsteps, and put his ear to the fence again, alert and stealthy as an eavesdropper. But this time too he heard nothing suspicious. In the end he went away.