Late at night \u2013 it must have been around midnight, or shortly before; and when I give you, esteemed female reader, esteemed male reader, a time, I do not do so because times would be important, but because Hans Castorp was now living in a world in which every meaning wants to have a number \u2013 Hans Castorp looked at his ring.<\/p>\n
23:59.<\/p>\n
One minute before a new day.<\/p>\n
One minute before a new year.<\/p>\n
One minute before\u2026 what?<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp saw these digits, and he felt how absurd it is that time keeps giving us the illusion that one could begin anew just because the hand moves a little further.<\/p>\n
Beside him Gustav was breathing shallowly.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp heard it.<\/p>\n
He looked at Gustav.<\/p>\n
He saw \u2013 and this is unpleasant to say \u2013 how the mask Gustav had worn in the morning no longer played any role. Sweat had loosened it at the edges; a small line at the temple, a dark shadow at the collar where something had rubbed off. It was not much. It was a trace.<\/p>\n
Only a trace.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp thought: Fear is the oldest cosmetics.<\/p>\n
He thought of the barber in Davos, of the smell of perfume, of the smile. He thought of the apparition on the beach, of the look.<\/p>\n
He thought: One stays because one wants to see something. And one dies because one has stayed.<\/p>\n
Gustav suddenly opened his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you there?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Gustav looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe water\u2026\u201d he began.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp leaned forward.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
Gustav smiled weakly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is\u2026 red,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp felt a cold current run through his belly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
Gustav closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cEverything,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
And then \u2013 it was no great moment, no dramatic gesture, no thunder \u2013 it became quieter.<\/p>\n
Not immediately. Not suddenly.<\/p>\n
More as if a sound were driving away into the distance.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp sat there.<\/p>\n
He waited.<\/p>\n
He did not count.<\/p>\n
The ring did not vibrate.<\/p>\n
Gustav breathed once more, very shallowly, and then \u2013 not as an event, but as an absence \u2013 he stopped.<\/p>\n
Hans Castorp looked at him.<\/p>\n
He said nothing.<\/p>\n
For what should one say?<\/p>\n