The night seemed immense and hospitable, and although so dark there seemed to be things moving down there in the harbour and movement out at sea.
He gazed until the darkness numbed him, and then he walked on quickly, still murmuring to himself.

"And I ought to be in bed, snoring and dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.

Dreams and realities, dreams and realities, dreams and realities," he repeated all the way up the avenue, scarcely knowing what he said, until he reached the front door.

Here he paused for a second, and collected himself before he opened the door.
His eyes were dazed, his hands very cold, and his brain excited and yet half asleep.

Inside the door everything was as he had left it except that the hall was now empty.