You shall have heat--and nothing else.' Anything agreeable to the eye is out of the question.

No more snapping, crackling wood fire, no more gentle, pervasive warmth.

The useful without the fantastic.

Ah, the beautiful jets of flame darting out from a red cave of coals and spurting up over a roaring log." "But there are lots of stoves where you can see the fire," objected madame.
"Yes, and then it's worse yet.

Fire behind a grated window of mica.
Flame in prison.