affair was interfering with my work, and I banished it from my mind,
turning my face resolutely away from it whenever it tried to break
into my thoughts.

But though I could shut it out of my waking hours successfully
enough, I could not control my sleeping ones, and my dreams became
more and more horrible. Always there was the serpent with dripping
fangs, sometimes with Armand's head, sometimes with a face unknown to
me, but hideous beyond description; its slimy body glittered with
inlay and arabesque; its scaly legs were curved like those of the
Boule cabinet; sometimes the golden sun glittered on its forehead
like a great eye. Over and over again I saw this monster slay its
three victims; and always, when that was done, it raised its head and
glared at me, as though selecting me for the fourth.... But I shall
not try to describe those dreams; even yet I cannot recall them
without a shudder.

It was while I was sitting moodily in my room one night, debating
whether or not to go to bed; weary to exhaustion and yet reluctant to
resign myself to a sleep from which I knew I should wake shrieking,
that a knock came at the door--a knock I recognised; and I arose
joyfully to admit Godfrey.

I could see by the way his eyes were shining that he had something
unusual to tell me; and then, as he looked at me, his face changed.

"What's the matter, Lester?" he demanded. "You're looking fagged out.
Working too hard?"

"It's not that," I said. "I can't sleep. This thing has upset my