"Says it happens at times and gives the usual explanation
about intensity of impression and the like to account for its not
happening as a rule. I suppose you know something of these
theories--"

"Very little--except that they are wrong."

His emaciated hand played with the strap of the window for a
time. I prepared to resume reading, and that seemed to precipitate
his next remark. He leant forward almost as though he would touch
me.

"Isn't there something called consecutive dreaming--that goes
on night after night?"

"I believe there is. There are cases given in most books on
mental trouble."

"Mental trouble! Yes. I daresay there are. It's the right
place for them. But what I mean--" He looked at his bony
knuckles. "Is that sort of thing always dreaming? Is it dreaming?
Or is it something else? Mightn't it be something else?"

I should have snubbed his persistent conversation but for the
drawn anxiety of his face. I remember now the look of his faded
eyes and the lids red stained--perhaps you know that look.

"I'm not just arguing about a matter of opinion," he said.
"The thing's killing me."