We were walking⁠—as one. Somewhere beyond the fog the sun was singing in a faint tone, gradually swelling, filling the air with tension and with pearl and gold and rose and red.⁠ ⁠… The whole world seemed to be one unembraceable woman, and we who were in her body were not yet born; we were ripening in joy. It was clear to me, absolutely clear, that everything existed only for me: the sun, the fog, the gold⁠—for me. I did not ask where we were going; what did it matter? It was pleasure to walk, to ripen, to become stronger and more tense.⁠ ⁠…

“Here⁠ ⁠…” I-330 stopped at a door. “It so happens that today there is someone on duty who⁠ ⁠… I told you about him in the Ancient House.”

Carefully guarding the forces ripening within me, I read the sign: “Medical Bureau.” Automatically only I understood.