ce."

"The worst of it is that we cannot foresee it. We get no warning. It
springs out of the unknown like a tiger."

We walked slowly across the Circus. It was thronged with a night crowd,
and seemed like some strange octagonal room, walled by moving coloured
lights. Here lay a scene that remained eternally the same whatever the
conditions of life--a scene that neither war, nor pestilence, nor famine
could change. We stood by the fountain, immersed in our thoughts. "I
used to enjoy this kind of thing," said Sarakoff at length.

"And now?"

"Now it is curiously meaningless--absolutely indecipherable."

We walked on and entered Coventry Street. Here Sarakoff suddenly pushed
open a door and I followed him. We found ourselves in a brilliantly
illuminated restaurant. A band was playing. We sat down at an unoccupied
table.

"Harden, I wish to try an experiment. I want to see if, by an effort, we
can get back to the old point of view."

He beckoned to the waiter and ordered champagne, cognac, oysters and
caviare. Then he leaned back in his seat and smiled.

"Somehow I feel it won't work," I began.

He held up his hand.

"Wait. It is an experiment. You must give it a fair chance. Come, let us
be merry."

I nodded.

"Let us eat, drink and be merry," I murmured.

I watched the flushed faces and sparkling eyes around us. So far we had
attracted no attention. Our table was in a corner, behind a pillar. The
waiter hurried up with a laden tray, and in a moment the table was
covered with bottles and plates.

"Now," said Sarakoff, "we will begin with a glass of brandy. Let us try
to recall the days of our youth--a little imagination, Harden, and then
perhaps the spell will be broken. A toast--Leonora!"

"Leonora," I echoed.

We raised our glasses. I took a sip and set down my glass. Our eyes met.

"Is the brandy good?"

"It is of an admirable quality," said Sarakoff. He put his glass on the
table and for some time we sat in silence.

"Excuse me," I said. "Don't you think the caviare is a trifle----?"

He made a gesture of determination.

"Harden, we will try champagne."

He filled two glasses.

"Let us drink off the whole glass," he said. "Really, Harden, we must
try."

I managed to take two gulps. The stuff was nasty. It seemed like weak
methylated spirits.

"Continue," said Sarakoff firmly; "let us drink ourselves into the
glorious past, whither the wizard of alcohol transports all men."

I took t