since he was at school. It magically arrived, on an oriental tray, set
on a low Moorish table.

Eating the most wonderful food of his life and drinking tea, he looked
about and saw that two of the unoccupied sofas in his alcove were strewn
with garments; the owners of the garments had doubtlessly arrived during
his absence in the chapels and were now in the chapels themselves. He
lay back; earthly phenomena lost their hard reality....

When he woke up the mosque was a pit of darkness glimmering with sharp
points of electric light. He heard voices, the voices of two men who
occupied the neighbouring sofas. They were discoursing to each other
upon the difficulties of getting good whiskey in Afghanistan and in Rio
de Janeiro respectively. From whiskey they passed to even more
interesting matters, and Mr. Prohack, for the first time, began to learn
how the other half lives, to such an extent that he thought he had
better turn on the lamp over his head. Whereupon the conversation on the
neighbouring sofas curved off to the English weather in late autumn.

Then Mr. Prohack noticed a deep snore. He perceived that the snore
originated in a considerable figure that, wrapped in white and showing
to the mosque only a venerable head, was seated in one of the huge
armchairs which were placed near the entrance to every alcove. It seemed
to him that he recognised the snore, and he was not mistaken, for he had
twice before heard it on Sunday afternoons at his chief club. The head
was the head of Sir Paul Spinner. Mr. Prohack recalled that old Paul was
a devotee of the Turkish bath.

Now Mr. Prohack was exceedingly anxious to have speech with old Paul,
for he had heard very interesting rumours of Paul's activities. He