…body draw me back, and I entered into it, and experienced again the sensation of the sleeper returning to the living world.Then I dreamed I awoke, and lay in bed striving, in vain, to recall my own answer to that question of fire. It had slipped so readily from my lips, and it had slipped with equal readiness from my brain. I could only repeat, again and again, the meaningless question, “Art thou going to the ZONE ARTO? ”The sun was high and hot. I dreamed I rose leisurely, and, led by an invisible agency, made my way to the coffee-room of an adjacent restaurant. Sitting there was a man who, from his appearance, might have been an Italian of doubtful class, possibly one of the anarchists of whom Europe at that moment stood in dread. His companion was a girl, with dark hair and blue eyes, tall and beautifully…

…or a ‘Tec?”I see I must explain myself,” she said, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down.”Though I’m living in a big house in Park Lane, Mr. Bailey, I’m a poor woman. My husband has all the money, and not I.” “That doesn’t sound quite fair, ma’am,” I muttered, not knowing exactly what other remark to make.”Fair! Of course it isn’t fair!” she snapped. “Nothing is fair, is it? But come, I’m not here to expatiate on injustice. Have you ever been hard up, Mr. Bailey? You have. Good! Then you can sympathise with me. I am hard up— so hard up that I am anxious to sell my diamonds — a wedding present from my husband — and, being a wedding present and positively the only present he has ever given me, you can understand my difficulty. In short, I want to sell it, but dare…