1 Harry Soot, unclear, of course, about fire.             How original, originating, it really was—             Forests aflame. Resinous clubs. In the dark paneled reading room a green shade.
	0 Sand, a cat’s cradle fan and economic. Her shave and a haircut, fifteen cents; her Oceania nodes of knot             remembered navigation; her numerous fingers interlaced with gloves—made of holes—slipped successfully over;             her mediumistic con in the dark apparatus, all one, all the same nano-rope. This point escaped Harry. Harry preferred Ouija wavering words, reassured by Ouija jerk.