ctorian meal. The table furniture was
very different. There were no ornaments, no flowers, and the table was
without a cloth, being made, he learnt, of a solid substance having
the texture and appearance of damask. He discerned that this damask
substance was patterned with gracefully designed trade advertisements.

In a sort of recess before each diner was a complete apparatus of
porcelain and metal. There was one plate of white porcelain, and by
means of taps for hot and cold volatile fluids the diner washed this
himself between the courses; he also washed his elegant white metal
knife and fork and spoon as occasion required.

Soup and the chemical wine that was the common drink were delivered
by similar taps, and the remaining covers travelled automatically in
tastefully arranged dishes down the table along silver rails. The diner
stopped these and helped himself at his discretion. They appeared at
a little door at one end of the table, and vanished at the other. That
turn of democratic sentiment in decay, that ugly pride of menial souls,
which renders equals loth to wait on one another, was very strong he
found among these people. He was so preoccupied with these details that
it was only just as he was leaving the place that he remarked the huge
advertisement dioramas that marched majestically along the upper walls
and proclaimed the most remarkable commodities.

Beyond this place they came into a crowded hall, and he discovered the
cause of the noise that had perplexed him. They paused at a turnstile at
which a payment was made.

Graham's attention was immediately arrested by a violent, loud hoot,
followed by a vast leathery voice. "The Master is sleeping peacefully,"
it said vociferately. "He is in excellent health. He is going to devote
the rest of his life to aeronautics. He says women are more beautiful
than ever. Galloop! Wow! Our wonderful civilisation astonishes him
beyond measure. Beyond all measure. Galloop. He puts great trust in Boss
Ostrog, absolute confidence in Boss Ostrog. Ostrog is to be his chief
minister; is authorised to remove or reinstate public officers--all
patronage will be in his hands. All patronage in the hands of Boss
Ostrog! The Councillors have been sent back to their own prison above
the Council House."

Graham stopped at the first sentence, and, looking up, beheld a
foolish trumpet face from which this was brayed. This was the General
Intelligence Machine. For a space it seemed t