Dream Report
Early 20th-century gangsters were meeting up in some kind of dive. One of them actually was played by James Cagney. They were handing around a small, beribboned wreath -- letters on the ribbons spelt out the names of the members of the gang, but intertwined, the names were encoded. A blonde woman, the wife or girlfriend of one of the gangsters, stored the wreath and the code-ribbons in her home. I'm not sure what she actually thought of all these schemes. I was a dark-haired woman, my dress and hairstyle more 1940s. We were now on the shore of a shallow lake with a large house on a small island in the centre -- it belonged to a local millionaire. Cagney was swimming about and I asked him how deep it was prior to diving in. The answer turned out to be "not very," so I waded in, and kept wading until I found myself on the island and approaching the house, which was actually a very ramshackle affair. Upon waking up I decided that the millionaire who owned it must have been very miserly and also controlling, as the house was inhabited by his wife and offspring who were very poorly dressed -- indeed the first thing they said (after recognizing me as the person who'd made an appointment to come to the house) was an apology for not having clothes to put on the youngest member of the family, an infant of about six months. I offered to try and make him a shirt, and was pondering how to make him one from some spare handkerchiefs as I headed back to shore, when I woke up.