He sat down on the floor. Nick the barman appeared, walking unhindered 
through walls, bearing a tray with another stout on it, and handed it to him 
along with a bowl of salty peanuts. As the evening went on, other people passed 
through his area, dancing or singing or dueling or arguing or making love. None 
of these had anything to do, particularly, with Hackworth's Quest, and they 
appeared to have nothing to do with each other. Apparently Hackworth's Quest 
was (as the devil-woman herself had told him) just one of several concurrent 
stories being acted out tonight, coexisting in the same space.