ange dreams which make you overcome the
impossible, which open to you double-locked doors, unexpected joys,
tightly folded arms?

"Which of us in these troubled, excising, breathless slumbers, has not
held, clasped, embraced with rapture, the woman who occupied his
thoughts? And have you ever noticed what superhuman delight these happy
dreams give us? Into what mad intoxication they cast you! with what
passionate spasms they shake you! and with what infinite, caressing,
penetrating tenderness they fill your heart for her whom you hold clasped
in your arms in that adorable illusion that is so like reality!

"All this I felt with unforgettable violence. This woman was mine, so
much mine that the pleasant warmth of her skin remained in my fingers,
the odor of her skin, in my brain, the taste of her kisses, on my lips,
the sound of her voice lingered in my ears, the touch of her clasp still
clung to me, and the burning charm of her tenderness still gratified my
senses long after the delight but disillusion of my awakening.

"And three times that night I had the same dream.

"When the day dawned she haunted me, possessed me, filled my senses to
such an extent that I was not one second without thinking of her.

"At last, not knowing what to do, I dressed myself and went to call on
her. As I went upstairs to her apartment, I was so overcome by emotion
that I trembled, and my heart beat rapidly.

"I entered the apartment. She rose the moment she heard my name
mentioned; and suddenly our eyes met in a peculiar fixed gaze.

"I sat down. I stammered out some commonplaces which she seemed not to
hear. I did not know what to say or do. Then, abruptly, clasping my arms
round her, my dream was realized so suddenly that I began to doubt
whether I was really awake. We were friends after this for two years."

"What conclusion do you draw from it?" said a voice.

The story-teller seemed to hesitate.

"The conclusion I draw from it--well, by Jove, the conclusion is
that it was just a coincidence! And then--who can tell? Perhaps it
was some glance of hers which I had not noticed and which came back
that night to me through one of those mysterious and unconscious
--recollections that often bring before us things ignored by our own
consciousness, unperceived by our minds!"

"Call it whatever you like," said one of his table companions, when the
story was finished; "but if you don't believe in magnetism after that, my
dear boy, you