When the visitors returned a week later they moved on to the letters T, U, and V and this time Zeller really got nervous. His voice was as gentle as ever, but his talk and manner of speech changed: words came tumbling from his lips and at night he couldn’t stop whispering. He spoke quickly, as if compelled by reasons beyond his control, reasons he scarcely understood. He craned his neck toward Reiter and leaned on one elbow and began to whisper and moan and imagine scenes of splendor that together formed a chaotic assemblage of dark cubes stacked one on top of the other.
