The early dawn afforded barely sufficient light to render objects distinguishable when I awoke. According to the dial, it was nearly half-past four. That should be about right, was my thought: perhaps the dial had been set right during the night. My eyes, still wandering round the room, next caught sight of Utis standing in the doorway.
"You were sleeping so soundly," said he, after a pleasant greeting, "that I had not the heart to rouse you. I am glad, however, that you are awake, as it is time for your first lesson; that is," he continued with a smile, "if you still desire to keep up the fiction agreed on."
"For me, at least, it is no fiction," said I, by this time fully awake. "My memory of the past is quite the same as yesterday."
"Let us see," said he, seating himself, and making a gesture for me not to rise. What recollection have you of the events of yesterday?"
He listened with absorbed interest, while I gave a succinct account of the sights and impressions of the day before. At intervals he gave a nod of assent, as if to
