Yet a dream is a dream."
"Philosophers have disputed that," answered Unorna. "I am no
philosopher, but I can overthrow the results of all their disputations."
"You can do this. If I resign my will into your keeping you can cause
me to dream. You can call up vividly before me the remembered and
unremembered sights of my life. You can make me see clearly the sights
impressed upon your own memory. You might do that, and yet you could
be showing me nothing which I do not see now before me--of those things
which I care to see."
"But suppose that you were wrong, and that I had no dream to show you,
but a reality?"
She spoke the words very earnestly, gazing into his eyes at last without
fear. Something in her tone struck him and fixed his attention.
"There is no sleep needed to see realities," he said.
"I did not say that there was. I only asked you to come with me to the
place where she is."
The Wanderer started slightly and forgot all the instinct of opposition
to her which he had felt so strongly before.
"Do you mean that you know--that you can take me to her----" he could
not find words. A strange, overmastering astonishment took possession
of him, and with it came wild hope and the wilder longing to reach its
realisation instantly.
"What else could I have meant? What else did I say?" Her eyes were
beginning to glitter in the gathering dusk.
The Wanderer no longer avoided their look, but he passed his hand over
his brow, as though dazed.
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