What’s the light doing? The light is getting in my eyes and I must ask what it is doing. No one seems to know. She, least of all. In fact she has not said one word, not even when I politely—very politely!—inquired after her hat (so striking I assumed she’d worn it to provoke conversation). Its make. The material. Where one could find another like it. The hat, I said, in summa, is extremely charming. The professor, to my right, is speaking of a trip he took in a balloon. Over the jungles of Madagascar. Did you see the whole of the jungles or just a part? I believe I saw the greater part of the jungles. In fact, Sindbad, on one of his many— What do you or anyone else know about Sindbad?! I’m very excited, leaping up from my seat. The professor raises his hands, I believe protecting himself from the light. Sindbad! Of all people! She turns to the professor and intones, in a low voice: But the jungle? The professor nods his head vigorously. Now that I am standing the light is stronger than ever. I must cover my eyes. The professor gets under a blanket.