or gesture of hers recall, with all the vividness of actuality, a tender memory of that fair vision, of whom I feel the more disinclined to make mention as yet, from the fact that I am even now not quite able to convince myself of her non-existence! The events and personages of that strange experience have still for me a reality not surpassed by that of this actual existence. At times, indeed, I find myself inclined to doubt whether this is not the phantasmal and that the real, wondering whether I may not awake to find myself lying in the swinging cot in the house of Utis, looking toward the strangely divided dial above the door, to mark the hour, and think, with a thrill of inward joy, that, ere the band had advanced over three of those spaces, I should again be basking in the sunshine of a certain presence, once more have heard the pleasant morning greeting uttered by a certain voice.
At times, too, there recurs to me, with somewhat bewildering effect, vague reminiscences of a peculiar transcendental philosophy, of which Hulmar had afforded me occasional glimpses. Though, at the time, the main effect of what I heard of this speculation was to produce in me a feeling of vertigo, I now greatly regret the slight interest I then took in what would now prove so interesting. What material it would afford for a lecture before that summer gathering of deep and earnest thinkers, who seek relaxation from graver pursuits in a graceful toying with such airy themes as The Thinkableness of the Unthinkable! Even as it is, might not my subject prove as attractive in its way as Reva's thistle? The idea smiles upon me, and perhaps—But I must first find what
