Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 1.pdf/168

Rh something of the sort. And that reminds me. Sometimes when I have been dropping asleep, or drowsing under the noontide sun, I have seen strange corrugated faces just like yours, going by me, and trees with green leaves upon them, and such queer uneven ground as this&hellip; It must be so. I have fallen into another world."

"Sometimes," began the Vicar, "at bedtime, when I have been just on the edge of consciousness, I have seen faces as beautiful as yours, and the strange dazzling vistas of a wonderful scene that flowed past me, winged shapes soaring over it, and wonderful—sometimes terrible—forms going to and fro. I have even heard sweet music, too, in my ears&hellip; It may be that as we withdraw our attention from the world of sense, the pressing world about us, as we pass into the twilight of repose, other worlds&hellip; Just as we see the stars, those other worlds in space, when the glare of day recedes&hellip; And the artistic dreamers who see such things most clearly&hellip;"

They looked at one another.

"And in some incomprehensible manner I have fallen into this world of yours out of my own," said the Angel, "into the world of my dreams, grown real!"

He looked about him. "Into the world of my dreams."

"It is confusing," said the Vicar. "It almost makes one think there may be (ahem) Four Dimensions after all. In which case, of course," he went on hurriedly—for he loved geometrical speculations and took a certain pride in his knowledge of them—"there may be any number of three-dimensional universes packed 136