She went and took the candle with her. I sat upon the edge of my bed, and all at once I felt spiritually isolated, utterly cut off. There is something terrible in being with a number of strange people who are asleep. Waking, I could have found community with any of them. But sleeping, they suggested dark and almost sinister things. The room was full of the sound of breathing, the breathing of strange sleeping bodies. Awake I could have felt myself one with them, but asleep these unknown souls and tired limbs cowed me. I was slowly, but surely, surrounded by terror⁠—an almost ungovernable impulse urged me to flight. The five tall windows were pitiless⁠—I fell into the depths of unknown misery. I had set sail on an uncharted sea, and the waters lapped cold and deathly on my spirit.

And then the terror that walks in darkness was shattered by a cry. From the far corner of the room someone screamed for help and immediately the sleeping figures stirred and the room was full of life.

“It’s Millie,” said a tired voice, “she’s mental, you know. It’s all right, Millie, go to sleep.”