“Do you know, Chris, I think I’m especially favoured in my scepticism. I’m sceptical about the reality of everything; even about the reality of Nature. Sometimes I think that there are several ‘Natures’⁠ ⁠… several ‘Universes,’ in fact⁠ ⁠… one inside the other⁠ ⁠… like Chinese boxes.⁠ ⁠…”

“I know what you mean,” said the young girl hurriedly; and her eyes, as she looked at him, grew luminous with that indescribable excitement of mental sympathy that can bring tears from something deeper than passion.

Wolf, as he received this intimation, said to himself: “I can think aloud with her. Perhaps one day I’ll tell her about my ‘mythology’!” And there came over him, like a warm enveloping under-tide in which great crimson seaweeds were swaying, an unutterable sense of happiness. “Oh, I hope Gerda is all right!” he thought. And then, with a concentrated effort of his will, as if he were addressing a host of servile genii: “I command that Gerda shall be all right!”