The ice age passed. The land and the sea sprang once more into shadowy form. The gray phantom jungles were here again. The living things, driven elsewhere, came back. The giant mammals like all the giants were losing the battle. The smaller creatures were surviving. The ice came again, and passed. And again. Vast climate changes. Was the axis of the earth altering in its inclination? I think so. The ice ages passed. The apelike man had been roaming Java for nearly half a million years now. Roaming, and spreading. Two hundred thousand years and, a little less apelike, the Heidelberg man was wandering throughout Europe--and Asia perhaps. The Piltdown men flourished and fell and left their record in England and Europe. I wondered if here in this Space of New York City there could have been men like apes in those ages. We did not stop; there is no one to say. The glaciers withdrew. The Neanderthal race gave way to higher forms. The Cro-Magnons struggled with their primitive thinking. Reason had come. Man--true mankind--was upon the earth at last. His earth! He held it now, rising against environment and against all the efforts of the beast to hold him down! The Indian at the dials said abruptly: "25,000 B.C." "Ah," said Turber, "the age of civilization, little Nanette. We are entering it now. It starts here--and when it reaches its peak, I will be master of it. Ruling the world--with you." His fingers touched her hair. Enigmatic, unfathomable scoundrel! I sat, ignored by him, tensely regarding him. And I could have sworn that he was wholly sincere. His fingers gently stroked her hair. "Ruling the world, Nanette. I have selected its greatest Time--the peak of civilization. I will be Master of it, and you its Mistress. A wonderful destiny for you, child." He waited, and she murmured awkwardly: "Why--yes--" He frowned a little. "You do not love me yet. Oh, Nanette, don't you understand? It is your love I want. Not you without your love." "Yes," she said. "I understand." A pang went through me. An impressive scoundrel this! He went on earnestly: "I think there will be a great battle, Nanette. But we will win. We will conquer Great New York of 2445. And you'll live out your life five hundred years in the future of that world in which you and I were born." He turned to the window. "This is a backward Space, Nanette. Elsewhere on the earth man now in these eras before Christ is leaving the impress of his struggle. But not here. It's all still empty--no evidence of civilized man. But its outlines are familiar. Why, if you could see it, Nanette, you'd recognize it now. The ocean is to the east of us. The shores; the islands. This is Manhattan Island beneath us. Slower, Bluntnose! Remember, we stop at that appointed night of 1664. Go slower! We want no shock to harm my little Nanette." His voice went on. * * * * *