"But alas, not even the bedroom was stable-- it was the old bedroom of my lost childhood! Like a fog, it drifted away, it /materially/ penetrated the white walls of my real room, which emerged clear and smaller from the shadow, like the day and my life, like the footstep of the carriage driver and the vague sound of the whip that make the muscles in the stretched-out body of the somnolent beast rise up."
