The pinkish doctor leaped out of his chair. "Holy smoke!" he yelled. "Did she say she put him in the nursery?"
He raced for the door, and his five colleagues rose hastily and followed in his trail. Lester jumped up and followed after.
"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey, wait a minute!"
Lester arrived in the viewing room only a step behind the doctors. Already, it appeared, quite a crowd had assembled in the room, a random mixture of staff members and visitors. There was an excited murmuring, along with a general tendency to back away from the viewing panel. The doctors had stopped in their tracks just inside the door, in a collective attitude of stricken dismay. For a moment Lester was completely at a loss to discover the cause of all this, then a voice, a very small but distinct voice, echoed over the speaker.
"And you, too, fatso!" it said sharply. "Just what do you think you're staring at?"
Lester became aware of a large, dark-haired woman who suddenly gasped and backed away. Her lips worked feverishly over words that would not come.
"It's an invasion of privacy!" the voice continued furiously. "I stand on my rights! And I'll sit and lie down on them, too, if I have to! I demand a private room!"
During this pithy bit of dialogue, Lester edged cautiously through the ranks and peered into the brilliant inner reaches of the nursery. At first he saw nothing of particular note, then, slowly his gaze, moving along the first line of cribs, stopped at the one just left of center, where its infant occupant appeared to be sitting boldly upright, shaking its small pudgy fist at the window. The baby's face was quite red, and its tiny eyes glittered with a furious intelligence that was distinctly upsetting. If Lester's senses had not failed him, this was the originator of the angry voice.
"And what are you nosing around for, stupid?" the baby asked hotly, darting a swift glance in his direction. "I suppose you have never seen a baby before? How would you like it if every time you looked up from your bed you were faced with a lot of dough-faced, low-grade morons gaping at you through a plate glass window? Talk about goldfish!"