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.