About eleven o'clock we get in Ann's plane, and in no time we are down in Virginia in a nice little spot by a small stream. "I often come down here," Ann says. "It is one of the best places I know." There is something that seems awfully strange to me, and I finally realize that it is the green grass of the meadow and the trees, after the icky purple I have been used to for the past few months. I tell Ann about this and about how beautiful the green looks, but I add that it is still not as lovely as she is. She says that is very nice, and then as I stand up from spreading the picnic cloth, she is standing beside me, so I put my arms around her and then I am kissing her and she is kissing me and it is very pleasant indeed. I see that this is much better than any fourth dimension. Finally we get around to eating the lunch Ann has brought, and I keep saying how lovely she is, which I also mean. And she is saying I am pretty fine too, and we pass some little time like this. But after a while Ann says, "Mac, will you play for me now? I love to hear you." So I say I will if she will sing and I give her the words to _The St. Louis Blues_, which I have written out. I hit it soft and easy for one chorus to give her the melody, and then she takes the beat. Well, I have not realized it before, but her voice is plenty schmalz and it is a shame she is not living in my time, for she would be a cinch to panic them anywhere. After that she does _The Memphis Blues_ also, and she has me riding beautifully to keep her up there. She is wonderful. "You are the one who is wonderful," she says. "I have never heard music like you can get out of that trombone. Play something else, darling, won't you?" I slip into _If I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate_, and as I play, Ann moves over beside me. "Lovely," she whispers. With that I am really carried away and I hear her humming softly as I modulate into _Tea for Two_. I am giving it a real ride, and then I feel it coming over me again. I am in a panic. I try to stop playing, but I can't, and my body is vibrating something terrible. I dimly hear Ann crying, "Mac, Mac, ..." as I sink off. That is the last I can remember.... * * * * * When I come out of it this time, someone is pounding me on the back. "Ann?" I say hopefully, but I know inside that it will be useless. "Beautiful going, Mac. Beautiful," someone is saying. "What?" I ask blankly. "That _Stardust_. Boy, you were really out of the world on that one." Then I open my eyes and look up. It is Ernie Martin, our sax player, who has the chair next to me in Benny's. I look around. I am back in Benny's. As I put down my slip-horn there is a scattering of applause from the tables. Someone shouts at me. I close my eyes, but the noise is still there. I keep my eyes closed, and then I hear music. Ernie is hitting me with his elbow. "Get in," he says. I hear the boys beating out _Rosetta_.