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IcametoWilson’shouse;IsawMrs.WilsonandIsawMissPenclosa.Ihardlyrecallwhatwetalkedabout,butIdorememberthatMissP.shooktheheadofhercrutchatmeinaplayfulway,andaccusedmeofbeinglateandoflosinginterestinourexperiments.Therewasnomesmerism,butIstayedsometimeandhaveonlyjustreturned.Mybrainisquiteclearagainnow,andIcanthinkoverwhathasoccurred.Itisabsurdtosupposethatitismerelyweaknessandforceofhabit.Itriedtoexplainitinthatwaytheothernight,butitwillnolongersuffice.Itissomethingmuchdeeperandmoreterriblethanthat.Why,whenIwasattheMardens’whist-table,Iwasdraggedawayasifthenooseofaropehadbeencastroundme.Icannolongerdisguiseitfrommyself.Thewomanhashergripuponme.Iaminherclutch.ButImustkeepmyheadandreasonitoutandseewhatisbesttobedone.ButwhatablindfoolIhavebeen!InmyenthusiasmovermyresearchIhavewalkedstraightintothepit,althoughitlaygapingbeforeme.Didshenotherselfwarnme?Didshenottellme,asIcanreadinmyownjournal,thatwhenshehasacquiredpoweroverasubjectshecanmakehimdoherwill?Andshehasacquiredthatpoweroverme.Iamforthemomentatthebeckandcallofthiscreaturewiththecrutch.Imustcomewhenshewillsit.Imustdoasshewills.Worstofall,Imustfeelasshewills.Iloatheherandfearher,yet,whileIamunderthespell,shecandoubtlessmakemeloveher