'"It's Susan," said a whisper.
"Susan!"
"Yes, I...I had to ask you something."
She had to ask him something. Susan. A trapeze of moonlight lay under the open window, and he realised he had felt blindness. He could see her black hair on the shoulders of pale pyjamas.
"Susan," he said, stabilising, extricating, calling the roll of reason, turning on the lights of the mind and driving back to the wainscot the dream-rats already vanishing, leaving the shadow, the feeling of their invisible population.'
from A Share of the World by Hugo Charteris (Part One, Chapter 11)
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