Have you
ever heard of a dream that had a quality like that?"
"Like--?"
"So that afterwards you remembered little details you had
forgotten."
I thought. I had never noticed the point before, but he was
right.
"Never," I said. "That is what you never seem to do with
dreams."
"No," he answered. "But that is just what I did. I am a
solicitor, you must understand, in Liverpool, and I could not help
wondering what the clients and business people I found myself
talking to in my office would think if I told them suddenly I was
in love with a girl who would be born a couple of hundred years or
so hence, and worried about the politics of my great-great-great-
grandchildren. I was chiefly busy that day negotiating a
ninety-nine-year building lease. It was a private builder in a
hurry, and we wanted to tie him in every possible way. I had an
interview with him, and he showed a certain want of temper that
sent me to bed still irritated. That night I had no dream. Nor
did I dream the next night, at least, to remember.
"Something of that intense reality of conviction vanished. I
began to feel sure it was a dream. And then it came again.
"When the dream came again, nearly four days later, it was
very different. I think it certain that four days had also elapsed
in the dream. Many things had happened in the north, and the
shadow of them was back again between us, and this time it was not
so easily dispelled.
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