The Infinitesimal of the Third Order
From Under the Forehead
Over the Railing
There in the strange corridor lighted by the dotted line of dim little electric lamps...or no， no， later， when we had already reached one of the nooks in the courtyard of the Ancient House， she had said， "Day after tomorrow." That "day after tomorrow" is today...And everything seems to have wings and to fly； the day flies； and our Integral， too， already has wings. We finished placing the motor.and tried it out today， without switching it in. What magnificent， powerful salvos！ To me each of them sounded like a salute in honor of her， the only one—in honor of today！
At the time of the first explosion about a dozen loaf— ing Numbers from the docks stood near the main tube— and nothing was left of them save a few crumbs and a little soot. With pride I now write that this occurrence did not disturb the rhythm of our work for even a sec— ond. Not a man shrank. We and our lathes continued our rectilinear or curved motions with the same sparkling and polished precision as before， as if nothing had happened. As a matter of fact， what did happen？ A dozen Numbers represent scarcely one hundred millionth part of the United State. For practical consideration， that is but an infinitesimal of the third order. Pity， a result of arithmeti— cal ignorance， was known to the ancients； to us it seems absurd.
It also seems droll to me， that yesterday I was think— ing， even relating in these pages about a gray blot！ All that was only the "softening of the surface" which is nor— mally as hard as diamond， like our walls. （There is an an— cient saying： "Shooting beans at a stone wall... "）
Sixteen o"clock. I did not go for the supplementary walk； who knows， she might come now， when the sun is so noisily bright？
I am almost the only one in this room. Through the walls full of sunshine I see for a distance to the right and to the left， and below strings of other rooms， repeating each other as if in a mirror， hanging in the air and empty. Only on the bluish stairway， striped by the golden ink of the sun， a thin， gray shadow is seen rising. Already I hear steps， and I see through the door， and I feel a smile pasted to my face like a plaster. But it passed to another stairway and down. The click of the switchboard！ I threw myself to that little white slit and..， an unfamiliar male Number！ （A consonant means a male Number.）
The elevator groaned and stopped. A big， slovenly， slanting forehead stood before me， and the eyes...They impressed me strangely； it seemed as if the man talked with his eyes which were deep under the forehead.
"Here is a letter from her， for you." （From under the awning of that forehead.） "She asked that everything...as requested in the letter...without fail." This， too， from under the forehead， from under the awning， and he turned， looked about.
"No， there is nobody， nobody. Quickly！ the letter！"
He put the letter in my hand and went out without a word.
A pink check fell out of the envelope. It was hers， her check！ Her tender perfume！ I felt like running to catch up with that wonderful under-the-forehead one. A tiny note followed the check from the envelope； three lines： "The check...Lower the curtains without fail， as if I were actually with you. It is necessary that they should think that I...I am very， very sorry."
I tore the note into small bits. A glance at the mirror revealed my distorted， broken eyebrows. I took the check and was ready to do with it as I had done with the note. "She asked that everything...as requested in the letter...without fail." My arms weakened and the hands loosened. The check was back on the table. She is stronger than I， stronger than I. It seemed as if I were going to act as she wished. Besides...However， it is a long time before evening.
The check remained on the table. In the mirror—my distorted， broken eyebrows. Oh， why did I not have a doctor"s certificate for today？ I should like to go and walk， walk without end around the Green Wall and then to fall on my bed...to the bottom of...Yet I had to go to Auditorium No.13， and I should have to get hold of myself， so as to bear up for two hours！ Two hours without motion， at a time when I wanted to scream and stamp my feet！
The lecture was on. It was very strange to hear from the sparkling tube of the phono-lecturer not the usual metallic voice but a soft， velvety， mossy one. It was a woman"s voice， and I seemed to have a vision of the woman： a little， hooklike old woman， like the one at the Ancient House.
