Do you see - there beyond the shinning window, coming down from the steps of the National Theatre; coming over the road, the tram tracks, the gleaming cobble stones; coming closer, with a steady implacable tread, with a head withdrawn inside a soft black hood, a watchful figure at the door? Well, perhaps the chandeliers are dazzling on the glass, the streets seethe and bustle, there are lovers on the Bridge of Legions. Certainly Helen sees nothing, because she has closed her eyes and is looking down a corridor. It is lined with cheap green tiles. At the end, in the wall, there is a place where a door has been taken from its hinges. On the threshhold there is an empty chair with a shadow on the seat; beyond the shadow, a room which is very hot, and very dark.