With a sudden effort of will he threw off the sense of mystery which
had again taken possession of him, and walked forward quickly. As Weir
heard him, she turned her head and met his eyes, and although a closer
look at her face startled him afresh, his brain was his own again,
and he was determined that it should remain so. He might yield to
supernatural impressions when unprepared, but not when both brain and
will were defiantly on the alert. That she was not only unaccountably
altered, but that she shrank from him, was evident; and he was
determined to hear her version of last night's adventure without
delay. He believed that she would unconsciously say something which
would throw a flood of light on the whole matter.
"Where did you get that dress?" he said, abruptly.
She started sharply, and the color flew to the roots of her hair,
then, receding, left her paler than before. "Why do you ask me that?"
she demanded, with unconcealed, almost terrified suspicion in her
tones.
"Because," he said, looking straight into her eyes, "I had a peculiar
dream last night, in which you wore a dress exactly like this.
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