He was saying to himself: "Yes, it was just over there, by the window, that He came that time.

He talked to me there.

That other time it was when I was down by the doll's-house.

He showed me the smoke coming up from the chimneys when the sun stuck through, and the moon was all red one night, and the stars." He found himself gazing out over the square, over the twisted chimneys, that seemed to be laughing at him, over the shining wires and glittering roofs, out to the mist that wrapped the city beyond his vision--so vast, so huge, so many people--March Square was nothing.

He was nothing--John Scarlett nothing at all.
Then, with a sigh, he turned back.