Agyar [antikvár]

I feel the need to write something more before I go on my way, something that can go on top of this pile of papers, and the last shall be first, as someone or other said in a different context. It has been several days since I've been up in this little room, and in that time spring has come on with a vengeance. There's a little joke for you, lover. But I don't feel much like laughing. Since I was here last, I read this—what? What shall I call it? Collection of typed pages, I suppose. I read it, and it did to me what I hadn't thought could be done any more. For the love of love, how many changes can take place in a person before it all becomes meaningless and there is nothing left but a sort of numbness? Is that where I am now? No. Just the opposite; it is more like pins and needles of the soul. Hmmm. Not bad. Do you like that turn of phrase, lover?