The pipes of the Musical Tower thundered out harmoniously the March⁠—the same daily March. How wonderful the charm of this dailiness, of this constant repetition and mirror-like smoothness!

“Out for a walk?” Her round blue eyes opened toward me widely, blue windows leading inside; I penetrate there unhindered; there is nothing in there, I mean nothing foreign, nothing superfluous.

“No, not for a walk. I must go.” I told her where. And to my astonishment I saw her rosy round mouth form a crescent with the horns downward as if she tasted something sour. This angered me.

“You she-Numbers seem to be incurably eaten up by prejudices. You are absolutely unable to think abstractly. Forgive me the word but this I call bluntness of mind.”

“You?⁠ ⁠… to the spies? How ugly! And I went to the Botanical Garden and brought you a branch of lily-of-the-valley.⁠ ⁠…”

“Why, ‘and I’? Why this ‘and’? Just like a woman!”