Again in the semidarkness Weinstock floats by, seated at his planchette table as if at a steering wheel; again the maid – Hilda or Gretchen – passes dreamily from one door to another, and suddenly begins to whisper and wriggle out of her dress. Whenever I wish, I can accelerate or retard to ridiculous slowness the motions of all these people, or distribute them in different groups, or arrange them in various patterns, lighting them now from below, now from the side … For me, their entire existence has been merely a shimmer on a screen.
