As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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