He remembered Margaret's cry, "It is like walking in a dream," and echoed it.

Surely it _was_ a dream! He would wake one happy morning and find that he had invited Craven and Carfax to breakfast, and he would hear them, whilst he dressed, talking together in the outer room, and, later, he would pass Bunning in the Court without knowing him.

He would be introduced one day to Margaret Craven and find the house in which she lived a charming comfortable place, full of light and air, with a croquet lawn at the back of it, and Mrs.Craven, a nice ordinary middle-aged woman, stout possibly and fond of gossip.

And instead of being President of the Wolves and a person of importance in the College he would be once again his old self, knowing nobody, scornful of the whole world and of the next world as well.

And this brought him up with a terrible awakening.
No, that old reality could never be real again, for that old reality meant a world without God.