FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. Mr. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. This is part of a dream— some evil fancy. I speak no harm of her. She was by his side. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. ‘I have told you I will take Jacques. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness.
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