But now came the most remarkable part of the dream. She felt so afraid

of her husband, that being on the staircase, she had not the power to

retreat to her room (which she might easily have done before he had

fastened the door), but stood there staring. Consequently when he came

up the staircase to bed, candle in hand, he came full upon her. He

looked astonished, but said not a word. He kept his eyes upon her, and

kept advancing; and she, completely under his influence, kept retiring

before him. Thus, she walking backward and he walking forward, they

came into their own room. They were no sooner shut in there, than Mr

Flintwinch took her by the throat, and shook her until she was black in

the face. 'Why, Affery, woman--Affery!' said Mr Flintwinch. 'What have you been

dreaming of? Wake up, wake up! What's the matter?'

'The--the matter, Jeremiah?' gasped Mrs Flintwinch, rolling her eyes.

'Why, Affery, woman--Affery! You have been getting out of bed in your

sleep, my dear! I come up, after having fallen asleep myself, below, and

find you in your wrapper here, with the nightmare. Affery, woman,' said

Mr Flintwinch, with a friendly grin on his expressive countenance, 'if

you ever have a dream of this sort again, it'll be a sign of your being

in want of physic. And I'll give you such a dose, old woman--such a

dose!' Mrs Flintwinch thanked him and crept into bed.




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