I dreamt that I was visiting with Dorian and Maya. Much of the dream is very hazy, though. Dorian was about seven and Maya about four. Lauren was not at home. The house—a large, labyrinthine mansion—was full of helpers—maids, cleaners, cooks, instructors. To my surprise, most of them were my old friends or colleagues. I remember seeing Jan Bröchner, a professor of building economics from Sweden, and exclaiming: “You, too, Jan!” Ill at ease, he just shrugged his shoulders. If I am not mistaken, he was an instructor of Latin or Greek for the children. The only other thing I remember is that Maya was getting more and more upset as I was about to leave. “Daddy,” she repeated several times as we were walking toward the front door, “when will you come again?” She was close to tears. And so was I.