But his hand shook, and you know spellicans is a game you can't play when your hand shakes.

And all the time, behind the chess and the pictures and the spellicans, he was trying not to think about his dream, about how he had climbed that ladder stair, which was really the yard-stick, and gone into the cities that he had built on the tables.

Somehow he did not want to remember it.

The very idea of remembering made him feel guilty and wretched.
He went and looked out of the window, and as he stood there his wish not to remember the dream made his boots restless, and in their shuffling his right boot kicked against something hard that lay in the folds of the blue brocade curtain.
He looked down, stooped, and picked up little Mr.Noah.The nurse must have dropt it there when she cleared away the city.
And as he looked upon those wooden features it suddenly became impossible not to think of the dream.

He let the remembrance of it come, and it came in a flood.