Thursday, September 06, 2007

"In Don Saltero's Coffee-House in Danvers-street Mr. Newbolt was taking coffee with his son.

He said, "It is so long since last I saw you, Richard, I hope you have been well all this time?"

Richard sighed. "Father, I was drowned in the Dutch Wars. I have been dead these fifteen years."

Then Mr. Newbolt saw how cold and white was his face, how cold and white were his hands. "Why, child," he said, "so you were. I remember now. Still I am very glad to see you. Will you not walk home with me? It is scarce five minutes' walk and I daresay you will not mind the rain?"

"Oh, Father," cried Richard, "I cannot come home. I can never come home. Do you not see? This is a dream. It is only a dream."

Then Mr. Newbolt looked around Don Saltero's Coffee-House and saw the strangest people all talking and taking coffee together. "Why, child," he said, "so it is."