Some time ago I should probably have said without hesitation, "I am willing," but now,--I was silent. I caught the profile of the thin doctor; I implored him! "You see," he said at last, "Number D-530 is building the _Integral_ and I am sure the operation would interfere...." "Ah-h!" grumbled the other and stamped back into his room. We remained alone. The paper-like hand was put lightly and caressingly upon mine, the profile-like face came nearer and he said in a very low voice: "I shall tell you a secret. You are not the only one. My colleague is right when he speaks of an epidemic. Try to remember, have you not noticed yourself, some one with something similar, very similar, identical?" He looked at me closely. What was he alluding to? To whom?... Is it possible?... "Listen," I jumped up from my seat. But he had already changed the subject. In a loud metallic tone: "... As to the insomnia and for the dreams you complain of, I advise you to walk a great deal. Tomorrow morning you must begin taking long walks ... say as far as the Ancient House." Again he pierced me with his eyes and he smiled thinly. It seemed to me that I saw enveloped in the tender tissue of that smile a word, a letter, a name, the only name.... Or was it only my imagination? I waited impatiently while he wrote a certificate of illness for today and tomorrow. Once more I gently and firmly pressed his hand, then I ran out. My heart now feels light and swift like an aero; it carries me higher and higher.... I know joy will come tomorrow. What joy?... RECORD SEVENTEEN Through Glass I Died The Corridor I am puzzled. Yesterday, at the very moment when I thought everything was untangled, and that all the X's were at last found, new unknowns appeared in my equation. The origin of the coordinates of the whole story is of course the Ancient Home. From this centre the axes of all the X's, Y's, and Z's radiate, and recently they have entered into the formation of my whole life. I walked along the X-axis (Avenue 59) towards the centre. The whirlwind of yesterday still raged within me; houses and people upside down; my own hands torturingly foreign to me; glimmering scissors; the sharp sound of drops dripping from the faucet;--all this existed, all this _existed_ once! All these things were revolving wildly, tearing my flesh, rotating wildly beneath the molten surface, there where the "soul" is located.