"Arthur Benjamin Reeve - The Clairvoyants & other stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reeve Arthur B)

--===The Clairvoyants And Other Stories===--

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-===The Clairvoyants And Other Stories===-

-==Arthur Benjamin Reeve==-

_THE CLAIRVOYANTS (1913)_
"Do you believe in dreams?" Constance Dunlap looked searchingly at her
interrogator, as if her face or manner betrayed some new side of her
character.
Mrs. deForest Caswell was an attractive woman verging on forty, a chance
acquaintance at a shoppers' tea room downtown who had proved to be an uptown
neighbor.
"I have had some rather strange experiences, Mildred," confessed Constance
tentatively. "Why?"
"Because--" the other woman hesitated, then added, "why should I not tell you?
Last night, Constance, I had the strangest dream. It has left such an
impression on me that I can't shake it off, although I have tried all day."
"Yes? Tell me about it."
Mildred Caswell paused a moment, then began slowly, as if not to omit anything
from her story.
"I dreamt that Forest was dying. I could see him, could see the doctor and the
nurse, everything. And yet somehow I could not get to him. I was afraid, with
such an oppressive fear. I tried--oh, how I tried! I struggled, and how badly
I felt!" and she shuddered at the very recollection.
"There seemed to be a wall," she resumed, "a narrow wall in the way and I
couldn't get over it. As often as I tried, I fell. And then I seemed to be
pursued by some kind of animal, half bull, half snake. I ran. It followed
closely. I seemed to see a crowd of people and I felt that if I could only get
to that crowd, somehow I would be safe, perhaps might even get over the wall
and--I woke up--almost screaming."
The woman's face was quite blanched.
"My dear," remonstrated Constance, "you must not take it so. Remember--it was
only a dream."
"I know it was only a dream," she said, "but you don't know what is back of
it."
Mildred Caswell had from time to time hinted to Constance of the growing
incompatibility of her married life, but as Constance was getting used to
confidences, she had kept silent, knowing that her friend would tell her in
time.
"You must have guessed," faltered Mrs. Caswell, "that Forest and I are
not--not on the best of terms, that we are getting further and further apart."
It rather startled Constance to hear frankly stated what she already had
observed. She wondered how far the estrangement had gone. The fact was that
she had rather liked deForest Caswell, although she had only met her friend's
husband a few times. In fact she was surprised that momentarily there flashed
through her mind the query as to whether Mildred herself might be altogether
blameless in the growing uncongeniality.
Mildred Caswell had drawn out of her chatelaine a bit of newspaper and handed