“Nothing in William's tone or manner-nothing in his exuberant, but unvarying and indifferent, style of monologue-had prepared me for the possibility of. . . reality. William spoke of his brother, who was real, in precisely the same tone, or lack of tone, in which he spoke of the unreal-and now, suddenly, out of the phantoms, a real figure appeared! Further, he did not treat his younger brother as 'real'-did not display any real emotion, was not in the least oriented or delivered from his delirium- but, on the contrary, instantly treated his brother as unreal, effacing him, losing him, in a further whirl of delirium - utterly different from the rare but profoundly moving times when Jimmie G. (see Chapter Two) met his brother, and while with him was unlost”