It had already darkened in Paris at eight o’clock in the afternoon when I moved in the wings of imagination to the home of Madame de Villeparisis, who welcomed me with open arms and invited me to enter a private room where there was a man sitting in an armchair. She introduced him to me as Papus. And although I had never heard of him, it turned out that he was a well-known occultist and hypnotist who moved in the circles of Parisian high society. He was a big man, with a long square beard, lively eyes and a somewhat fierce expression on his face. Suddenly he got up and, as if he were a feline, he began to sniff at me wrinkling his nose. Then he opened my mouth wide and I’m not sure if he tried to put his head in it or just look inside. “Have you eaten gherkins?” he asked. And Mme de Villeparisis explained to me that he could not stand gherkins, especially if they were dressed in vinegar. Then the three of us took a seat and, at his request, I explained the problem I had. When I had finished, he cracked up. Then he said that what I called “moving with the imagination” was nothing more than an astral travel, and that if the Verdurins bothered me on such occasions, it meant that they also mastered the technique to travel astrally. I asked him if he also mastered that technique and again he cracked up, and thereupon quickly he stretched and became rigid, and he stayed as dead. I was alarmed thinking that he had had a heart attack, but Mme de Villeparisis reassured me by saying he was just doing a demonstration of his astral abilities. We stood for a long time contemplating him, until his face began to disfigure: he stick out the tongue and his eyes began to spin at great speed. “This does not seem to go well”, I said. Fortunately, Mme de Villeparisis had at home a device of recent invention: the telephone, with which we could request an ambulance, thus saving the life of our friend.