found it impossible to struggle against it. I simply
COULD not sit still at the table. At last, in the very
middle of a hand, I threw my cards down and, with some
sort of an incoherent apology about having an
appointment, I rushed from the room. As if in a dream
I have a vague recollection of tearing through the
hall, snatching my hat from the stand, and slamming the
door behind me. As in a dream, too, I have the
impression of the double line of gas-lamps, and my
bespattered boots tell me that I must have run down the
middle of the road. It was all misty and strange and
unnatural. I came to Wilson's house; I saw Mrs. Wilson
and I saw Miss Penclosa. I hardly recall what we
talked about, but I do remember that Miss P. shook the
head of her crutch at me in a playful way, and accused
me of being late and of losing interest in our
experiments. There was no mesmerism, but I stayed some
time and have only just returned.

My brain is quite clear again now, and I can think over
what has occurred. It is absurd to suppose that it is
merely weakness and force of habit. I tried to explain
it in that way the other night, but it will no longer
suffice. It is something much deeper and more terrible
than that. Why, when I was at the Mardens' whist-
table, I was dragged away as if the noose of a rope had
been cast round me. I can no longer disguise it from
myself. The woman has her grip upon me. I am in her
clutch. But I must keep my head and reason it out and
see what is best to be done.