When I feel cold in my sleep I dream of people.... I happened to have read
a criticism in which the reviewer blames you for introducing a man who is
"almost a minister," and thus spoiling the generally dignified tone of the
story. I don't agree with him. What spoils the tone is not the people but
your characterization of them, which in some places interrupts the picture
of the dream. One does dream of people, and always of unpleasant ones....
I, for instance, when I feel cold, always dream of my teacher of scripture,
a learned priest of imposing appearance, who insulted my mother when I was
a little boy; I dream of vindictive, implacable, intriguing people, smiling
with spiteful glee--such as one can never see in waking life. The laughter
at the carriage window is a characteristic symptom of Karelin's nightmare.
When in dreams one feels the presence of some evil will, the inevitable
ruin brought about by some outside force, one always hears something like
such laughter.... One dreams of people one loves, too, but they generally
appear to suffer together with the dreamer.

But when my body gets accustomed to the cold, or one of my family covers me
up, the sensation of cold, of loneliness, and of an oppressive evil will,
gradually disappears.... With the returning warmth I begin to feel that I
walk on soft carpets or on grass, I see sunshine, women, children.... The
pictures change gradually, but more rapidly than they do in waking life, so
that on awaking it is difficult to remember the transitions from one scene
to another.... This abruptness is well brought out in your story, and
increases the impression of the dream.

Another natural fact you have noticed is also extremely striking: dreamers
express their moods in outbursts of an acute kind, with childish
genuineness, like Karelin. Everyone knows that people weep and cry out in
their sleep much more often than they do in waking life. This is probably