I was sitting in the dining-bar of the Thousand Lights, in New York, watching Kelly as the woman walked into the bar. There was a ripple, an undercurrent of sensation. Not because of the way she looked, not because of her dress, but because she was an Ideal. People hate Ideals. The better-looking they are the more they are hated, and this one was right on top. I sat at a table about twelve feet from Kelly. He sat at the bar and I could see his face in the mirror. His face scowled in an expressio