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2 October 10 P.M.--Last night I slept, but did not dream. I must have
slept soundly, for I was not waked by Jonathan coming to bed, but the
sleep has not refreshed me, for today I feel terribly weak and
spiritless. I spent all yesterday trying to read, or lying down
dozing. In the afternoon, Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor
man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and
bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much. I am crying when I
think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful.
Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. He and the
others were out till dinner time, and they all came in tired. I did
what I could to brighten them up, and I suppose that the effort did me
good, for I forgot how tired I was. After dinner they sent me to bed,
and all went off to smoke together, as they said, but I knew that they
wanted to tell each other of what had occurred to each during the day.
I could see from Jonathan's manner that he had something important to
communicate. I was not so sleepy as I should have been, so before
they went I asked Dr. Seward to give me a little opiate of some kind,
as I had not slept well the night before. He very kindly made me up a
sleeping draught, which he gave to me, telling me that it would do me
no harm, as it was very mild . . . I have taken it, and am waiting for
sleep, which still keeps aloof. I hope I have not done wrong, for as
sleep begins to flirt with me, a new fear comes: that I may have been
foolish in thus depriving myself of the power of waking. I might want
it. Here comes sleep. Goodnight.
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