He had a genius for living in the moment.
I remember there was a drop-scene on which was daubed a blue lake with very green hills in the distance.

As the tobacco smoke grew thicker and the fiddles went on squealing, this tawdry picture began to mesmerize me.

I seemed to be looking out of a window at a lovely summer landscape where there were no wars or danger.

I seemed to feel the warm sun and to smell the fragrance of blossom from the islands.
And then I became aware that a queer scent had stolen into the atmosphere.
There were braziers burning at both ends to warm the room, and the thin smoke from these smelt like incense.

Somebody had been putting a powder in the flames, for suddenly the place became very quiet.