When he recovered consciousness he found himself under the table in the drawing-room. The swelling feeling was over, and he did not seem to be more than his proper size.
He could see the flat feet of the nurse and the lower part of her grey skirt, and a rattling and rumbling on the table above told him that she was doing as she had said she would, and destroying his city. He saw also a black column which was the leg of the table. Every now and then the nurse walked away to put back into its proper place something he had used in the building. And once she stood on a chair, and he heard the tinkling of the lustre-drops as she hooked them into their places on the chandelier.
'If I lie very still,' said he, 'perhaps she won't see me. But I do wonder how I got here. And what a dream to tell Helen about!'
He lay very still. The nurse did not see him. And when she had gone to her breakfast Philip crawled out.
Yes, the city was gone. Not a trace of it. The very tables were back in their proper places.
Philip went back to his proper place, which, of course, was bed.
'What a splendid dream,' he said, as he cuddled down between the sheets, 'and now it's all over!'