“Did the conductor take your fare and ring you up on the indicator? Anyhow, he would say things if you tried to work in a sixpence for a dime,” cried Hooper, when Karl reached this part of his story; and the spirit passenger confessed to a singular dread of being in the way of the men and women who were standing between the seats and clinging on to the straps. This was a somewhat remarkable instance of a mental record of a purely physical sensation. Once he began to roam about during his trances he had to learn that matter and space did not exist for him in their every-day acceptance. The car swung round a curve into Madison Square, crossed 23d Street, swept past a number of fine hotels, shops, newspaper offices, and theaters, passed under a section of the elevated railway, and clanged its rapid way towards newer New York. At last Constantine and Steindal alighted opposite a spacious restaurant, and Grier, being a ghost of quick perception, saw that even a rich man like the Armenian would use the street-car in preference to a brougham, because it was much safer and twice as speedy. He went with the pair up the steps of the restaurant and noted the deferential smirk of the head waiter. Nothing would have pleased him more than to play some prank on this flunky, but the means did not exist, so he perforce rested content with a careful scrutiny of his surroundings. In another week or two the patrons of this fashionable eating-house would be scattered over the cooler parts of the earth. Already the attendance was thin, but there were sufficient diners to warrant the cosmopolitan claims of America’s chief city. All speculation on this and kindred matters was, however, suddenly extinguished by a subtle, immensely remote, yet quite distinct sound of harmonious music. And then, with an exquisite delight that was almost painful in its intensity, he became aware that he was listening to the strains of a band playing one of Strauss’s waltzes. With each few bars the lilt of the composition became clearer, the orchestration more defined, until he could distinguish the violins, the piano, the piccolo, and, finally, the clarionets. His brain reeled under the intensity of this new emotion, and there was some danger that he might react into physical consciousness, had not a voice whispered, at exceedingly close quarters: “Dot _schwein-hund_ Steindal says we cahnd gook a _poulet en casserole_ worth a cent.” It was the deferential head waiter murmuring confidences to the manager!