"Capital!" she cried. "I knew you would--what is the word?--oh yes--
_adapt_ yourself. And it is only for a little while. You will wake
very soon. But you ought to enjoy it while it lasts. There are many
amusing things about it all."

Varick reflected grimly that it was the "amusing things" which
occasioned his perturbation, but he kept his reflection to himself and
smiled down at her sunnily.

"For example," she continued, "as we really do not exist here, and as
we are not visible to these people, we cannot do anything that will
affect them in any way or attract their attention. Look at that!"

They were passing a small house whose front door, opening on the
street, stood ajar. Within they could see a stout woman standing at a
tub and washing busily, and a little girl pouring hot water from a
quaint kettle into a large pan full of soiled blue dishes. The pan
stood near the edge of a wooden table, and the little girl was perched
on a stool just high enough to bring her on a level with her work.

"You are, I am sure, a fine athlete," murmured the woman. "Or else
your looks belie you," she added, with a roguish upward glance. "Yet
with all your strength you cannot push that pan of dishes off the
table."

Without a word, Varick passed through the doorway, strode into the
house and up to the table. She followed him closely. He attempted to
seize the pan in his powerful hands--and, to his horror, discovered
that they held nothing. The pan remained on the table and the child
was now unconcernedly washing the blue dishes, humming a little folk-