I GOT to know Toeti Heraty in 1960. But that does not mean she knew me.

She was a fourth year student in the Faculty of Psychology at the University of Indonesia, whereas I was a newcomer of a few months. I wandered around the grounds in the cramped faculty across from the Cipto Mangunkusumo Hospital, whereas Toeti was most often in one of the rooms, with thick books on the desks (I noticed one of them, Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot).