What
had he got up to do secretly, at that hour of the morning?
I looked closer at the papers on the table. They were all neatly
folded (as he usually keeps them), with one exception; and that
exception, lying open on the rest, was Mr. Brock's letter.
"I looked round at him again, after making this discovery, and
then noticed for the first time another written paper, lying
under the hand that rested on his lap. There was no moving it
away without the risk of waking him. Part of the open manuscript,
however, was not covered by his hand. I looked at it to see what
he had secretly stolen away to read, besides Mr. Brock's letter;
and made out enough to tell me that it was the Narrative of
Armadale's Dream.
"That second discovery sent me back at once to my bed--with
something serious to think of.
"Traveling through France, on our way to this place, Midwinter's
shyness was conquered for once, by a very pleasant man--an Irish
doctor--whom we met in the railway carriage, and who quite
insisted on being friendly and sociable with us all through
the day's journey. Finding that Midwinter was devoting himself to
literary pursuits, our traveling companion warned him not to pass
too many hours together at his desk.
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