Evening, 30 April

Henri turned away from the mirror and went to the kitchen. He stared in the ice box for a time, and at last took out some cheese. He ate his cheese with some bread and had a glass of wine. It was all he'd eaten all day. It made him feel less shaky.

Henri went back to his desk and stared down at the papers. He arranged them so that the ones he thought he might be able to make sense of were on top.

So the Anya of the poem was someone or something the Swami had been looking for when he went to the library-like place--was that description that of the library? Henri paused. When had he decided that the repository of his dream was real, that Ramanuja could go there just as Henri did? Henri sighed. He wanted very much to not be alone right now. He glanced at the clock. 11 pm. Too late to politely phone any of his ladies, even for an evening romp. 

Henri pushed back from his desk, and went to his room. He put on his evening suit, boiled shirt front with his ruby studs, and white tie. In the parlor he put on his gloves and coat then went out into the night. He would go out to a club, listen to some jazz, ask some ladies to dance, drink a little 'tea' and feel much better for it.