Another of the things I pride myself on is that I never wander from my subject. What Midwinter said next is what I ought to be writing about now.]
"He looked at me for a moment， as if he thought I had taken leave of my senses. Then he came round to my side of the table and stood over me again.
" 'If nothing else will satisfy you that you are entirely misinterpreting my motives，' he said， 'and that I haven't an idea of blaming _you_ in the matter--read this.'
" He took a paper from the breast-pocket of his coat， and spread it open under my eyes. It was the Narrative of Armadale's Dream.
"In an instant the whole weight on my mind was lifted off it. Ifelt mistress of myself again--I understood him at last.
" 'Do you know what this is？' he asked. 'Do you remember what Isaid to you at Thorpe Ambrose about Allan's Dream？ I told you then that two out of the three Visions had already come true. Itell you now that the third Vision has been fulfilled in this house to-night.'
"He turned over the leaves of the manuscript， and pointed to the lines that he wished me to read.
"I read these， or nearly read these words， from the Narrative of the Dream， as Midwinter had taken it down from Armadale's own lips：
" 'The darkness opened for the third time， and showed me the Shadow of the Man and the Shadow of the Woman together. The Man-Shade was the nearest； the Woman-Shadow stood back. From where she slood， I heard a sound like the pouring out of a liquid softly. I saw her touch the Shadow of the Man with one hand， and give him a glass with the other. He took the glass and handed it to me. At the moment when I put it to my lips， a deadly faintness overcame me. When I recovered my senses again， the Shadows had vanished， and the Vision was at an end.'
"For the moment， I was as completely staggered by this extraordinary coincidence as Midwinter himself.
"He put one hand on the open narrative and laid the other heavily on my arm.
" '_Now_ do you understand my motive in coming here？' he asked.
'_Now_ do you see that the last hope I had to cling to was the hope that your memory of the night's events might prove my memory to be wrong？ _Now_ do you know why I won't help Allan？ Why Iwon't sail with him？ Why I am plotting and lying， and ****** you plot and lie too， to keep my best and dearest friend out of the house？'
" 'Have you forgotten Mr. Brock's letter？' I asked.
"He struck his hand passionately on the open manuscript. 'If Mr.
Brook had lived to see what we have seen to-night he would have felt what I feel， he would have said what I say！' His voice sank mysteriously， and his great black eyes glittered at me as he made that answer. 'Thrice the Shadows of the Vision warned Allan in his sleep，' he went on； 'and thrice those Shadows have been embodied in the after-time by You and by Me！ You， and no other， stood in the Woman's place at the pool. I， and no other， stood in the Man's place at the window. And you and I together， when the last Vision showed the Shadows together， stand in the Man's place and the Woman's place still！ For 蔩this，_ the miserable day dawned when you and I first met. For _this，_ your influence drew me to you， when my better angel warned me to fly the sight of your face. There is a curse on our lives！ there is a fatality in our footsteps！ Allan's future depends on his separation from us at once and forever. Drive him from the place we live in， and the air we breathe. Force him among strangers--the worst and wickedest of them will be more harmless， to him than we are！ Let his yacht sail， though he goes on his knees to ask us， without You and without Me； and let him know how I loved him in another world than this， where the wicked cease from troubling， and the weary are at rest！'
"His grief conquered him； his voice broke into a sob when he spoke those last words. He took the Narrative of the Dream from the table， and left me as abruptly as he had come in.
"As I heard his door locked between us， my mind went back to what he had said to me about myself. In remembering 'the miserable day' when we first saw each other， and 'the better angel' that had warned him to 'fly the sight of my face，' I forgot all else.
It doesn't matter what I felt--I wouldn't own it， even if I had a friend to speak to. Who cares for the misery of such a woman as Iam？ who believes in it？ Besides， he spoke under the influence of a mad superstition that has got possession of him again. There is every excuse for _him_--there is no excuse for _me._ If I can't help being fond of him through it all， I must take the consequences and suffer. I deserve to suffer； I deserve neither love nor pity from anybody.--Good heavens， what a fool I am！ And how unnatural all this would be， if it was written in a book！
"It has struck one. I can hear Midwinter still， pacing to and fro in his room.
"He is thinking， I suppose？ Well！ I can think too. What am I to do next？ I shall wait and see. Events take odd turns sometimes；and events may justify the fatalism of the amiable man in the next room， who curses the day when he first saw my face. He may live to curse it for other reasons than he has now. If I am the Woman pointed at in the Dream， there will be another temptation put in my way before long； and there will be no brandy in Armadale's lemonade if I mix it for him a second time.
"October 24th.--Barely twelve hours have passed since I wrote my yesterday's entry； and that other temptation has come， tried， amid conquered me already！
"This time there was no alternative. Instant exposure and ruin stared me in the face： I had no choice but to yield in my own defense. In plainer words still， it was no accidental resemblance that startled me at the theater last night. The chorus-singer at the opera was Manuel himself！
