Then he took over the care of the case himself, saying that he would watch this night and the next, and would send me word when to come.
After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal.
What does it all mean?
I am beginning to wonder if my long habit of life amongst the insane is beginning to tell upon my own brain.
LUCY WESTENRA'S DIARY.
17 September .-- Four days and nights of peace.

I am getting so strong again that I hardly know myself.

It is as if I had passed through some long nightmare, and had just awakened to see the beautiful sunshine and feel the fresh air of the morning around me.

I have a dim half remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing, darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present distress more poignant.

And then long spells of oblivion, and the rising back to life as a diver coming up through a great press of water.