The sermon which the old Cure was preaching on Valmond's death was running in my head.

I could not continue my walk.

Then and there I stepped into the Windsor Hotel, which I was passing, and asked if there was a stenographer at liberty.

There was.

In the stenographer's office of the Windsor Hotel, with the life of a caravanserai buzzing around me, I dictated the last few pages of When Valmond Came to Pontiac.