[...] For me, autumn has never been a sad season. The dying leaves and the days that grow shorter and shorter have never evoked the end of something for me but instead brought with them anticipation for the future. In Paris, during these October evenings, there is an electricity in the air at dusk. Even when it rains. I don’t feel down at that time of night, nor does it seem that time is passing too swiftly. I have the feeling that anything is possible. The year begins in the month of October. That’s when classes start again and to me it’s the season to take on new projects. So if she came to the Condé in October, it’s because she had broken ties with some entire part of her life and she wanted to do what they refer to in novels as “turning over a new leaf.” Moreover, a clue proves to me that I’m not mistaken. At the Condé, she was given a new name. Zacharias, that day, had even spoken of baptism. It was in some way a second birth.