'Oh, yes, I do, Emily.'

'Not so much as I do.' And raising herself--she was sitting on Julia's
knees--Emily looked at Julia.

'Perhaps not,' Julia replied, smiling; 'but then I never hated him as much
as you did.'

A cloud came over Emily's face. 'I did hate him, didn't I? You remember
that first evening? You remember when you came up-stairs and found me
trembling in the passage--I was afraid to go to bed. ... I begged you to
allow me to sleep with you. You remember how we listened for his footstep
in the passage, as he went up to bed, and how I clung to you? Then the
dreams of that night. I never told you what my dreams were, but you
remember how I woke up with a cry, and you asked me what was the matter?'

'Yes, I remember.'

'I dreamt I was with him in a garden, and was trying to get away; but he
held me by a single hair, and the hair would not break. How absurd dreams
are! And the garden was full of flowers, but every time I tried to gather
them, he pulled me back by that single hair. I don't remember any more,
only something about running wildly away from him, and losing myself in a
dark forest, and there the ground was soft like a bog, and it seemed as if
I were going to be swallowed up every moment. It was a terrible sensation.
All of a sudden I woke with a cry. The room was grey with dawn, and you
said: "Emily dear, what have you been dreaming, to cry out like that?" I
was too tired and frightened to tell you much about my dream, and next
morning I had forgotten it. I did not remember it for a long time after,
but all the same some of it came true. Don't you remember how I met Hubert