…ever, suddenly appeared.”Come along”, she cried, touching me lightly on the arm, “come along, and I will take you to the ZONE ARTO She signalled to a hansom, and, before I realised what was happening, I found myself being whirled along through street after street. Through narrow byways, and crowded thorough- fares. On and on we went, till we finally arrived at a river wharf, where, rising and falling on the ebbing tide, was a boat containing a couple of dark-visage, fiery-eyed men in vermilion caps, to whom my companion beckoned. They drew up to a flight of stone steps and we took our seats behind them. In absolute silence, we glided over the murky bosom of the Thames, which was singularly devoid of shipping, and at length drew up alongside a low, rakish-looking steamer, whose sides and funnel were painted black. A gigantically tall man with huge, cat-like eyes…