"It's your problem," said the Dream.
"I know—you think I ought not to hate them; but I can't see how I can help it when they do such dreadful things. I can't see—"
"No," said the Dream, "it seems that you can't. You don't seem to have long-range eyes—or long-range ears—or a long-range mind. You are focused right up close to you, all the time."
Marjorie sat and looked at him. "You mean—"
"I mean that you don't get any perspective. You look at things right up close and don't stop to think of the things they may be related to, away off before or behind that particular instant. You don't know why people do things,—you can't know; but just the same, you try them and condemn them and hate them and yourself, and make everything just as hard as possible for everybody."
Marjorie sat up very straight. "I don't think that's fair," she said. "You know that I try to help whenever I can, and I don't try to make it hard for anybody; but I just can't see the reason—"
"Do you have to see a reason? When you
