Babette and I moved down the wide aisle, each with a gleaming cart. We passed a family shopping in sign language.

　　I kept seeing colored lights.

　　"How do you feel?" she said.

　　"I'm fine. I feel good. How are you?""Why don't you have a checkup? Wouldn't you feel better if you found out nothing was there?""I've had two checkups. Nothing is there.""What did Dr. Chakravarty say?""What could he say?""He speaks English beautifully. I love to hear him speak.""Not as much as he loves to speak.""What do you mean he loves to speak? Do you mean he takes every possible opportunity to speak? He's a doctor. Hehas to speak. In a very real sense you are paying him to speak. Do you mean he flaunts his beautiful English? He rubsyour face in it?""We need some Class Plus.""Don't leave me alone," she said.

　　"I'm just going to aisle five.""I don't want to be alone, Jack. I believe you know that.""We're going to come through this thing all right," I said. "Maybe stronger than ever. We're determined to be well.

　　Babette is not a neurotic person. She is strong, healthy, outgoing, affirmative. She says yes to things. This is the pointof Babette."We stayed together in the aisles and at the checkout. Babette bought three tabloids for her next session with Old ManTreadwell. We read them together as we waited on line. Then we went together to the car, loaded the merchandise,sat very close to each other as I drove home.

　　"Except for my eyes," I said.

　　"What do you mean?""Chakravarty thinks I ought to see an eye man.""Is it the colored spots again?""Yes.""Stop wearing those dark glasses.""I can't teach Hitler without them.""Why not?""I need them, that's all.""They're stupid, they're useless.""I've built a career," I said. "I may not understand all the elements involved but this is all the more reason not totamper."The déjà vu crisis centers closed down. The hotline was quietly discontinued. People seemed on the verge offorgetting. I could hardly blame them even if I felt abandoned to a certain extent, left holding the bag.

　　I went faithfully to German lessons. I began to work with my teacher on things I might say in welcoming delegates tothe Hitler conference, still a number of weeks off. The windows were totally blocked by furniture and debris.

　　Howard Dunlop sat in the middle of the room, his oval face floating in sixty watts of dusty light. I began to suspect Iwas the only person he ever talked to. I also began to suspect he needed me more than I needed him. A disconcertingand terrible thought.

　　There was a German-la............