He had stopped so that although his back was turned he could, by a slight shift of his position, still see by means of a mirror in the window what was going on across the street behind him.
One look was enough.

It was Drummond, the detective.

What did it mean?
Neither woman said much as they rode uptown, and parted on the respective floors of their apartment house.

Still Constance could not get out of her head the recollection of the dream doctor and of Drummond.
Restless, she determined that night to go down to the Public Library and see whether any of the books at the clairvoyant's were on the shelves.

Fortunately she found some, found indeed that they were not all, as she had half suspected, the works of fakers but that quite a literature had been built up around the new psychology of dreams.
Deeply she delved into the fascinating subjects that had been opened by the studies of the famous Dr.Sigmund Freud of Vienna, and as she read she found that she began to understand much about Mrs.Caswell--and, with a start, about her own self.
At first she revolted against the unpleasant feature of the new dream philosophy--the irresistible conclusion that all humanity, underneath the shell, is sensuous or sensual in nature, that practically all dreams portray some delight of the senses and that sexual dreams are a large proportion of all visions.