We went to lunch at the dining room (through our body). At the entrance there is a place for smoking, there is our new practitioner Cole, yesterday’s student, in jeans and a black jacket.

I go back, in the same place stands a man of fifty years of the same height (completely, indeed), in the same jeans and black jacket. It was a miracle to keep him from noticing that smoking made him very old almost in front of his eyes.