Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (73 page)

I
felt
my
body
slipping
down
against
the
wall
as
though
my
legs were
gone.
The
whole
house,
it
seemed,
was
listening
to
our
whispered words.
I
heard
the
staircase
creak.
The
rumble
of
street
traffic
was audible
outside.
I
caught
myself
thinking
that
I
would
have
given
my very
soul
to
see
an
omnibus,
a
good,
everyday
red
omnibus,
a
taxi
cab, a
policeman.
What
was
to
come
next
I
dared
not
even
think
about. Vronski
stood
close
beside
me,
our
shoulders
touching.
His
unescap-able
eyes
ran
over
me
in
liquid
fire.
What
would
he
say
next?
What would
he
ask
of
me?

And
then
a
crackling
voice
rang
out
upstairs,
a
voice
I
knew
and recognised.
Though
a
curious
distance
was
in
it,
yet
a
distance
that could
not
muffle,
it
was
sharp
and
distinct.
It
called
my
name.

"Come,"
said
Vronski
calmly.
"You
must
come
up
and
help
him. He
is
expecting
you."

It
came
over
me
suddenly
that
the
entire
experience
was
a
dream. Things
in
a
dream
happened
just
like
this.
The
sense
of
surprise,
the power
of
criticism,
are
absent.
Mantravers,
Vronski,
myself
were
all figures
in
a
dream.
Tire
whole
business
belonged
to
a
dream.
I,
the dreamer,
should
presently
wake
up.
Yet
while
this
thought
flashed,
its opposite,
appearing
concurrently,
flashed
with
it:
that
my
consciousness,
namely,
had
changed,
and
that
I
was
beyond
the
emotions
that pertain
to
normal
consciousness.
As
consciousness
changes,
grows,
the universe
it
perceives
grows
and
changes
with
it.
.
.
.

"In
a
sense
that's
exactly
true,"
I
heard
Vronski
murmur
as
we crossed
the
silent
hall,
and
it
did
not
occur
to
me
as
in
the
least
odd that
he
should
know
what
I
was
thinking.
"We
are
in
a
dream-world here
and
now,
a
dream
condition,
a
dream
civilisation.
We
are,
that is,
so
little
conscious
that
what
we
think
real
is
actually
hardly
more than
a
dream-state
.
.
."
and
his
voice
died
away
among
the
shadows.

I
heard
this
without
an
atom
of
surprise,
without
a
tremor
of
disbelief.
Philosophical
talk
at
such
a
moment!
And
yet
somehow
occasioning
no
astonishment!
Obviously,
the
experience
was
all
a
dream.

"He
woke
up,"
the
voice
ran
on
as
we
reached
the
staircase,
"and consequently
he
disappeared.
That
is,
he
left
our
dream-conditions."

I
could
not
quite
follow
that.
I
was
suddenly
stiff
with
terror
too, thinking
of
the
man
waiting
for
us
up
that
dark
flight
of
stairs.
It seemed
absurd
and
horrible,
comic
and
tragic,
that
we
should
be exchanging
philosophical
comments
at
such
a
moment.

"He
became
aware
of
other
conditions,
though
these
are
about
us
always,
and
only
a
change
in
our
perceptive
apparatus
is
needed
            
"