I was interrupted. The switchboard clicked. I raised my eyes⁠— O-90 , of course! In half a minute she herself will be here to take me for the walk.

Dear O- ! She always seems to me to look like her name, O- . She is approximately ten centimeters shorter than the required Maternal Norm. Therefore she appears all round; the rose-colored O of her lips is open to meet every word of mine. She has a round soft dimple on her wrist. Children have such dimples. As she came in, the logical flywheel was still buzzing in my head, and following its inertia, I began to tell her about my new formula which embraced the machines and the dancers and all of us.

“Wonderful, isn’t it!” I asked.

“Yes, wonderful⁠ ⁠… Spring!” she replied, with a rosy smile.