‘You mean?’
‘I died.’
‘Died?’
‘Smashed and killed, and now so much of me as that dream was is dead. Dead for ever. I dreamt I was another man, you know, living in a different part of the world and in a different time. I dreamt that night after night. Night after night I woke into that other life. Fresh scenes and fresh happenings—until I came upon the last——’
‘When you died?’
‘When I died.’
‘And since then——’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Thank God! that was the end of the dream....’
It was clear I was in for this dream. And, after all, I had an hour before me, the light was fading fast, and Fortnum-Roscoe has a dreary way with him. ‘Living in a different time,’ I said: ‘do you mean in some different age?’
‘Yes?