In much the same spirit,although spanning a shorter period of time (several months as opposed to twenty years),

another friend ,R.,told me of a certain out-of-the-way book that he had been trying to locate without success,scouring

bookstores and catalogues for what was supposed to be a remarkable work that he very much wanted to read,and

how,one afternoon as he made his way through the city,he took a shortcut through Grand Central Station,walked

up the staircase that leads to Vanderbilt Avenue,and caught sight of a young woman standing by the marble railing

with a book in front of her:the same book he had been trying so desperately to track down.

Although he is not someone who normally speaks to strangers,R. was too stunned by the coincidence to remain

silent.’Believe it or not’,he said to the young woman,’I've been looking everywhere for that book’.

‘It’s wonderful’,the young woman answered.’I just finished reading it.’

‘Do you know where I could find another copy?’R. asked.’I can’t tell you how much it would mean to me.’

‘This one is for you,’the woman answered.

‘But it’s yours,’R.said.

‘It was mine,’the woman said,’but now i’m finished with it.I came here today to give it to you.’