«I had a vexing dream one night, not long ago: it was about a fortnight after Christmas. I dreamt I flew out of the window in my nightshirt. I went up and up. I was glad that I was going up. «They have been noticing me,» I thought to myself. «If anything, I have been a bit too good. A little less virtue and I might have lived longer. But one cannot have everything.» The world grew smaller and smaller.»
