Spring: -I- -II- -III-
The Stamp Album: -IV- -V- -VI- -VII- (VIII) -IX- -X- -XI- -XII-
In the Municipal Park: -XIII- -XIV- -XV- -XVI-
Springtime Twilight: -XVII-
The Villa: -XVIII- -XIX- -XX- -XXI- -XXII- -XXIII- -XXIV- -XXV- -XXVI- -XXVII-
Bianka’s Lineage: -XXVIII- -XXIX- -XXX- -XXXI- -XXXII- -XXXIII-
Hiatus: -XXXIV- -XXXV- -XXXVI- -XXXVII-
Finale: -XXXVIII- -XXXIX- -XL-
VIII
I BECAME an adept of a new gospel. I befriended Rudolf. I flattered him, I accorded him regard, having a vague intuition that he was merely an instrument, and that the book was destined for another — whereas he seemed to be merely its custodian. He catalogued. He stuck and he unstuck. He kept the key in his cabinet. There was an air of sadness about him, like one who knew that for him it was to stoop, whereas for me it was to rise. He was like the one who came to make straight the Lord’s paths.
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