FortwoyearsMissWinchelseacouldnotgotoseeherfriends，inspiteofthereiteratedinvitationsofMrs。Sevenoaks——itbecamefullSevenoaksinthesecondyear。ThenonedayneartheEasterrestshefeltlonelyandwithoutasoultounderstandherintheworld，andhermindranoncemoreonwhatiscalledPlatonicfriendship。Fannywasclearlyhappyandbusyinhernewsphereofdomesticity，butnodoubtHEhadhislonelyhours。DidheeverthinkofthosedaysinRome——gonenowbeyondrecalling？Noonehadunderstoodherashehaddone；nooneinalltheworld。Itwouldbeasortofmelancholypleasuretotalktohimagain，andwhatharmcoulditdo？Whyshouldshedenyherself？Thatnightshewroteasonnet，allbutthelasttwolinesoftheoctave——whichwouldnotcome，andthenextdayshecomposedagracefullittlenotetotellFannyshewascomingdown。
Andsoshesawhimagain。
Evenatthefirstencounteritwasevidenthehadchanged；heseemedstouterandlessnervous，anditspeedilyappearedthathisconversationhadalreadylostmuchofitsolddelicacy。ThereevenseemedajustificationforHelen’sdescriptionofweaknessinhisface——incertainlightsitWASweak。Heseemedbusyandpreoccupiedabouthisaffairs，andalmostundertheimpressionthatMissWinchelseahadcomeforthesakeofFanny。HediscussedhisdinnerwithFannyinanintelligentway。Theyonlyhadonegoodlongtalktogether，andthatcametonothing。HedidnotrefertoRome，andspentsometimeabusingamanwhohadstolenanideahehadhadforatext-book。
ItdidnotseemaverywonderfulideatoMissWinchelsea。ShediscoveredhehadforgottenthenamesofmorethanhalfthepainterswhoseworktheyhadrejoicedoverinFlorence。
Itwasasadlydisappointingweek，andMissWinchelseawasgladwhenitcametoanend。Undervariousexcusessheavoidedvisitingthemagain。Afteratimethevisitor’sroomwasoccupiedbytheirtwolittleboys，andFanny’sinvitationsceased。Theintimacyofherlettershadlongsincefadedaway。
ThemanwiththewhitefaceenteredthecarriageatRugby。Hemovedslowlyinspiteoftheurgencyofhisporter，andevenwhilehewasstillontheplatformInotedhowillheseemed。Hedroppedintothecorneroveragainstmewithasigh，madeanincompleteattempttoarrangehistravellingshawl，andbecamemotionless，withhiseyesstaringvacantly。Presentlyhewasmovedbyasenseofmyobservation，lookedupatme，andputoutaspiritlesshandforhisnewspaper。Thenheglancedagaininmydirection。
Ifeignedtoread。IfearedIhadunwittinglyembarrassedhim，andinamomentIwassurprisedtofindhimspeaking。
“Ibegyourpardon？“saidI。
“Thatbook，“herepeated，pointingaleanfinger，“isaboutdreams。“
“Obviously，“Ianswered，foritwasFortnum-Roscoe’sDreamStates，andthetitlewasonthecover。Hehungsilentforaspaceasifhesoughtwords。“Yes，“hesaidatlast，“buttheytellyounothing。“
Ididnotcatchhismeaningforasecond。
“Theydon’tknow，“headded。
Ilookedalittlemoreattentivelyathisface。
“Therearedreams，“hesaid，“anddreams。“
ThatsortofpropositionIneverdispute。
“Isuppose——“hehesitated。“Doyoueverdream？Imeanvividly。“
“Idreamverylittle，“Ianswered。“IdoubtifIhavethreevividdreamsinayear。“
“Ah！“hesaid，andseemedforamomenttocollecthisthoughts。
“Yourdreamsdon’tmixwithyourmemories？“heaskedabruptly。
“Youdon’tfindyourselfindoubt；didthishappenordiditnot？“
“Hardlyever。Exceptjustforamomentaryhesitationnowandthen。
Isupposefewpeopledo。“
“DoesHEsay——“heindicatedthebook。
“Saysithappensattimesandgivestheusualexplanationaboutintensityofimpressionandtheliketoaccountforitsnothappeningasarule。Isupposeyouknowsomethingofthesetheories——“
“Verylittle——exceptthattheyarewrong。“
Hisemaciatedhandplayedwiththestrapofthewindowforatime。
Ipreparedtoresumereading，andthatseemedtoprecipitatehisnextremark。Heleantforwardalmostasthoughhewouldtouchme。
“Isn’ttheresomethingcalledconsecutivedreaming——thatgoesonnightafternight？“
“Ibelievethereis。Therearecasesgiveninmostbooksonmentaltrouble。“
“Mentaltrouble！Yes。Idaresaythereare。It’stherightplaceforthem。ButwhatImean——“Helookedathisbonyknuckles。
“Isthatsortofthingalwaysdreaming？ISitdreaming？Orisitsomethingelse？Mightn’titbesomethingelse？“
Ishouldhavesnubbedhispersistentconversationbutforthedrawnanxietyofhisface。Iremembernowthelookofhisfadedeyesandthelidsred-stained——perhapsyouknowthatlook。
“I’mnotjustarguingaboutamatterofopinion，“hesaid。“Thething’skillingme。“
“Dreams？“
“Ifyoucallthemdreams。Nightafternight。Vivid！——sovivid……
this——“heindicatedthelandscapethatwentstreamingbythewindow“seemsunrealincomparison！IcanscarcelyrememberwhoIam，whatbusinessIamon……“
Hepaused。“Evennow——“
“Thedreamisalwaysthesame——doyoumean？“Iasked。
“It’sover。“
“Youmean？“
“Idied。“
“Died？“
“Smashedandkilled，andnow，somuchofmeasthatdreamwas，isdead。Deadforever。IdreamtIwasanotherman，youknow，livinginadifferentpartoftheworldandinadifferenttime。Idreamtthatnightafternight。NightafternightIwokeintothatotherlife。Freshscenesandfreshhappenings——untilIcameuponthelast——“
“Whenyoudied？“
“WhenIdied。“
“Andsincethen——“
“No，“hesaid。“ThankGod！Thatwastheendofthedream……“
ItwasclearIwasinforthisdream。Andafterall，Ihadanhourbeforeme，thelightwasfadingfast，andFortnum-Roscoehasadrearywaywithhim。“Livinginadifferenttime，“Isaid:
“doyoumeaninsomedifferentage？“
“Yes。“
“Past？“
“No，tocome——tocome。“
“Theyearthreethousand，forexample？“
“Idon’tknowwhatyearitwas。IdidwhenIwasasleep，whenIwasdreaming，thatis，butnotnow——notnowthatIamawake。There’salotofthingsIhaveforgottensinceIwokeoutofthesedreams，thoughIknewthematthetimewhenIwas——Isupposeitwasdreaming。
Theycalledtheyeardifferentlyfromourwayofcallingtheyear……
WhatDIDtheycallit？“Heputhishandtohisforehead。“No，“saidhe，“Iforget。“
Hesatsmilingweakly。ForamomentIfearedhedidnotmeantotellmehisdream。AsaruleIhatepeoplewhotelltheirdreams，butthisstruckmedifferently。Iprofferedassistanceeven。“Itbegan——“
Isuggested。
“Itwasvividfromthefirst。Iseemedtowakeupinitsuddenly。
Andit’scuriousthatinthesedreamsIamspeakingofIneverrememberedthislifeIamlivingnow。Itseemedasifthedreamlifewasenoughwhileitlasted。Perhaps——ButIwilltellyouhowIfindmyselfwhenIdomybesttorecallitall。Idon’trememberanythingdearlyuntilIfoundmyselfsittinginasortofloggialookingoutoverthesea。Ihadbeendozing，andsuddenlyIwokeup——freshandvivid——notabitdream-like——becausethegirlhadstoppedfanningme。“
“Thegirl？“
“Yes，thegirl。Youmustnotinterruptoryouwillputmeout。“
Hestoppedabruptly。“Youwon’tthinkI’mmad？“hesaid。
“No，“Ianswered；“you’vebeendreaming。Tellmeyourdream。“