Today, Srotvi led me to a small delicately-crafted box she had been keeping beneath her kitchen sink. She opened it and pulled out an old china doll, carefully polished and (according to Srotvi) from at least 1855. Apparently, Dipere always kept a china doll on his desk, but "every day, it was a different one. He never had the same one twice in the twenty-six weeks we took his course." This particular china doll she was showing me, she found in the local library. At least, she claimed.
I asked her if she knew where he was now, and her answer was "Over there," without any gesturing implying he was simply in one direction. I'm certain she knows where he is, but I'm not going to push her. I'll ask again tomorrow.