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The gallery is located on Pound Street, in what art dealers call the evil end. On Monday morning, Smiley arrived at the gallery's door well before any respected art dealer woke up.

His Sunday was surprisingly peaceful. Waterfront Street woke up late, and so did Smiley. In his sleep, his memories poured out throughout the day, continuously, giving him a slight throbbing of inspiration. At least as far as memory is concerned, his black chalice is closer. His phone didn't ring once, and a slight but lingering hangover kept him in deep thought. He was a member of a club near Palmmore Street——......

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