No. No, that's not it, that's not it at all.

[Or is it? Maybe he's right and all that struggle was fighting against the truth, and -- No. Something's wrong with Arthur now, it must be, if he thinks that she's a projection, a shade, because she knows she's not, damn it. She stops backing away, holds out a beseeching hand, while still clutching her pillow to her breast.]

Please, Arthur. Don't do this. You are real. This is real. Look at your totem.