...
So it went on; or, rather, so it was with him. He pleased himself by
contemplating the London streets outside, the darkness of the garden
in some square, the interior of the Oratory where a few figures
kneeled--all seen beyond the movements of light and shadow in this
clear invisible radiance that was to his perception as common light to
common eyes. The world of which he had had experience--for he found
himself unable to see that which he had never experienced--lay before
his will like a movable map: this or that person or place had but to
be desired, and it was present.
And then came the return; and the Horror....
He began in this way.
He understood that he wished to awake, or, rather, to be reunited with
the body that lay there in deep sleep before the fire. He observed it
for a moment or two, interested and pleased, the face sunk a little on
the hand, the feet lightly crossed on the fender. He looked at his own
profile, the straight nose, the parted lips through which the breath
came evenly. He attempted even to touch the face, wondering with
gentle pleasure what would be the result....
Then, suddenly, an impulse came to him to enter the body, and with the
impulse the process, it seemed, began.
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