"But—but I was asleep."
"Certainly. That is one of the usual conditions—an almost indispensable condition, in fact. The objective self—I mean the ordinary workaday faculties—was lulled; and your subjective self—call it what you like—but it is your real self, the essential self that survives death—this self, simply went through the inner door, and—and saw what was to be seen."
Laurie looked at him intently. But there was a touch of apprehension in his face, too.
"You mean," he said slowly, "that—that all I saw—the limitations of space, and so forth—that these were facts and not fancies?"
"Certainly. Doesn't your theology hint at something of the kind?"
Laurie was silent. He had no idea of what his theology told him on the point.
"But why should I—I of all people—have such an experience?" he asked suddenly.
The medium smiled.
"Who can tell that?" he said. "Why should one man be an artist, and another not? It is a matter of temperament. You see you've begun to develop that temperament at last; and it's a very marked one to begin with. As for—"
Laurie interrupted him.