Graham looked at their faces and saw that what he had heard was indeed true.
"But it can't be," he said querulously.

"I am dreaming.

Trances--trances don't last.

That is not right--this is a joke you have played upon me! Tell me--some days ago, perhaps, I was walking along the coast of Cornwall-- ?" His voice failed him.
The man with the flaxen beard hesitated.

"I'm not very strong in history, sir," he said weakly, and glanced at the others.
"That was it, sir," said the youngster.