Was there anything like life, after all?
Martin cleared the table and drew the curtains over the domestic arrangements.

He didn't like domestic arrangements.

Then he sat down and lighted a cigarette.

His head was all blurred with sleep.
And presently a tired voice, called "Boy!" and he went in.

The all-too-golden head was deep into the pillow and long lashes made fans on that powdered face.
"Where did you pinch the magic carpet ?" she asked, and smiled, and fell into sleep as a stone disappears into water.
As Martin drew the clothes over her thinly clad shoulder, something touched him.