A dream! She stood in front of a barn which had a little window in its slanting roof. A man and a woman had just disappeared through that window. She knew their purpose at once. In the darkness, half-invisible, stood two lads, and it enraged the dreamer that the lads were eagerly listening. She herself was tormented by the sensual envy and hatred that arises in people when they see others in the throes of passion. Her blood tingled and her heart throbbed. Suddenly the barn seemed to have swung around, or she to have insensibly changed her station. The barn was open; one whole wall had disappeared. But the couple were not above, where they had entered; they were down in the depths. The man was fully clothed, but nothing was visible of the woman except her black stockings in the straw. From them both streamed forth something unspeakably disgustful--a heated, sweetish air. The two lads, as though seized by St. Vitus’ dance, hurled themselves at each other. Then Karen felt her bodily personality dissolve. She was no longer Karen; she was that sensual miasma, she was the woman with the man. She lost herself in the straw, in its reddish-brown light, in those black stockings; and as she lay there, her body swelled and expanded and became a gelatinous, greyish-yellow ball, and reached even to the roof of the barn. Then the ball became transparent, and she saw within it lizards and toads and tiny, scarlet horses, on which tiny horsemen were riding, and soldiers and spiders and worms, a loathsome swarm. The horrible passions that penetrated everything turned into a throttling torment. The ball burst. A corpse fluttered about like charred paper. A white shadow expanded. Karen gave a shriek, and started from her sleep. Her first gesture was to grasp the pearls. Christian went up to the bed. She murmured wildly: “Are you still here? What are you doing?” He gave her water to drink. “I’ve been dreaming,” she said, and touched the glass with trembling lips. The elements of her dream were already dissolving in her mind and escaping a formulation in speech. But the sense of that dream’s frightfulness increased; in the depth of her consciousness flickered the terror of death. “I’ve been dreaming,” she repeated and shook. After a while she asked: “Why are you up so late? What did you do all day that you’ve got to work till late at night? Why do you work so hard? Tell me!” He shook his head and the words, “Ruth, little Ruth,” passed through his head. “Didn’t your mother visit you to-day?” he asked, and smoothed her pillows. “Tell me what you’ve been doing all day!” she persisted.