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In front of me sat not one but two men.
Ezra looked little different than at his last session, except that there was an enhanced lightness about him. Archimenides himself was nearly glowing and I made myself go on lest I break the spell. In truth, whatever I did would not have mattered, for both men were in another world and they were there to bring it to me. I began to feel faint. I went into a posture of repose, and I knew the spell was broken, so I looked up. The men were no more to be seen. I got to my feet. The room smelled of lotus, the first time. There was no lotus essence in the anteroom. I do not know how long I stayed in the changing room that day.
It was twelve years before Michel came back. I thought it strange that I should be wearing the same gown as when we met. Few garments I kept so long, and rarely had I worn it since he left my courtyard. The morning, the depth of summer's turning, the tint of violet in the sky, had made me think that I must wear this gown, though seldom did I put on something besides what Gilda laid out. His hair had turned to silver. He seemed the same but his eyes had taken a deeper blue with the years. I thought the colors and the fragrances in my garden had transformed, but then I remembered. Finally he spoke and his voice, too, had deepened. "Lady," he said, "I have changed more than you." "I am the same," I said, "but for the flower you gave me, to put in my hair!" He laughed, the first time I heard it. He plucked a gardenia from the same bush and held it out to me, and I took it and put it in my hair.
We walked among the trees and shrubs until I remembered my deformity, and I led him back to the marble benches. We sat facing each other as so long ago, and I asked if he had come to begin sessions. Then, it happened again. I dropped my cup and he sprang to pick it up.