Зима тревоги нашей

           Butwhyaresleepwalkersawakened?Isitforfearthattheymayhurtthemselves?I’veneverheardofinjuryinthisstate,exceptthroughawakening.WhyshouldIinterfere?Thiswasnonightmarefullofpainorfearbutratherpleasureandassociationbeyondwakingunderstanding.WhatcallhadItospoilit?Imovedquietlybackandsatdowninmybigchairtowait.

           Thedimroomseemedswarmingwithparticlesofbrilliantlightmovingandwhirlinglikecloudsofgnats.Iguesstheywerenotreallytherebutonlypricklesofwearinessswimminginthefluidofmyeyes,buttheywereveryconvincing.AnditdidseemtruethataglowcamefrommydaughterEllen,notonlyfromthewhiteofhergownbutfromherskinaswell.IcouldseeherfaceandIshouldnothavebeenabletointhedarkenedroom.Itseemedtomethatitwasnotalittlegirl’sfaceatall—norwasitold,butitwasmatureandcompleteandformed.Herlipsclosedfirmly,whichtheydidnotnormallydo.

           AfteratimeEllenputthetalismanfirmlyandpreciselybackinitsplaceandsheclosedtheglass-frontedcaseandtwistedthebrasskeythatkeptitclosed.Thensheturnedandwalkedpastmychairandupthestairs.TwothingsImayhaveimagined—one,thatshedidnotwalklikeachildbutlikeafulfilledwoman,andsecond,thatasshewenttheluminescencedrainedawayfromher.Thesemaybeimpressions,childrenofmymind,butathirdthingisnot.Assheascendedthestairs,therewasnocreakofwood.Shemusthavebeenwalkingneartothewall,wherethetreadsdonotcomplain