I'm in our living room. It's a mess and I begin tidying up. As I move about, I see that the entire house is messy, so I start looking for the vacuum cleaner in order to vacuum the living and dining rooms. In searching for the vacuum cleaner, I enter the kitchen. There I find Mary. She is wearing a heavy coat, which she takes off and throws onto a kitchen chair, then rushes into my arms, lays her head on my shoulder as I hold her close, hug and comfort her. She's sobbing. I ask if the illness has returned. "No, it's not that," she sobs, "I've lost my treasures." Then she proceeds to tell me what has happened. Her voice is muffled because of her sobbing, and I'm asking questions, trying to draw her out and find out what is upsetting her. All I can learn is that she had, long ago, deposited or placed her treasures -- jewelry and such like -- somewhere, and this place either no longer has her articles, or is refusing to return them, or is denying ever having had them, or is asking her to present them with documentation of proof of ownership. It is very confusing. I think I see Mary as having gained weight. She is dressed in a Japanese kimono and wearing a Japanese hairstyle.