When she had gone, he spread himself out on the bed. He drank some more water from the diamond glass, and ate some more grapes. The world was now restored. Everything fairly glowed. There was a faint radiance in the air. The marble floor shimmered. The wind murmured. A gentle melody rose from beneath all things. The palace was bathed in a new light, a clear new light that sharpened its edges. It appeared now in an eternal freshness, remade in its own lucid dream. The sky was youthful and clear, as on the first day of its creation. And from its far corner, dawn was gently reclaiming the long mystery of that night.
Thinking about the strange woman, he reached for some more grapes, and noticed something peculiar about the mirror. Before he tucked himself into bed, he picked up the mirror and looked into it. He was surprised to find his features fading, disappearing. At first it occurred to him that he was exhausted, and that his eyes were tired. But, overcome with an oddly repellent notion, he put the mirror down hurriedly.
He thought about many things. He was mildly disturbed. He thought about the woman again.
‘That’s something else I will have to learn,’ he said to himself. ‘I will have to learn to love without illusion.’
Then he turned over and fell soundly asleep.