It seemed to him a long, long time since he had been
walking home drearily from Dr. Gurney's office; it seemed to him
that he had set out upon a happy journey since then, and that he
had reached another planet, where Mary Vertrees and he sat alone
together listening to a vast choiring of invisible soldiers and holy
angels. There were armies of voices about them singing praise and
thanksgiving; and yet they were alone. It was incredible that the
walls of the church were not the boundaries of the universe, to remain
so for ever; incredible that there was a smoky street just yonder,
where housemaids were bringing in evening papers from front steps and
where children were taking their last spins on roller-skates before
being haled indoors for dinner.
He had a curious sense of communication with his new friend. He knew
it could not be so, and yet he felt as if all the time he spoke to
her, saying: "You hear this strain? You hear that strain? You know
the dream that these sounds bring to me?" And it seemed to him as
though she answered continually: "I hear! I hear that strain, and
I hear the new one that you are hearing now. I know the dream that
these sounds bring to you.
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