Residing in the frigid depths of space, floating between dimensions. Should this daemon ever come into contact with another world, it would tear it apart. Desiring death, I visited every known abode of repose in the known world; at each one of which could I hope to find a peaceful resting from Zettonu Poptee and the unutterable horrors of my visitations. It being winter, I visited the ancient Congregational burying-ground in Kingsport, Rhode Island, whence I thought I might find a repose-ground as comfortable as that of one's own church. In Cleveland I found a place reputed to be that of the ancient Golden Ball Inn, where I could rest and reflect upon the uttermost horrors which my wanderings had brought me to know. Visiting Kingsport also afforded me a convenient resting-place, but I saw that no other business was taking place in that town than the business of the inn. All the motors returning from the war were stuck in Newport Harbour. Stuck there, too, were some of the cargoes which had relieved our ships at Portsmouth; matters of which it is known that the crew was exceedingly reluctant to speak to the outside.