They tried.  Oh, how they tried.  Tonight, Miss Winters fell into the embrace of the blackguard, Devlin, and I sense Doctor Hoffman’s influence on the proceedings.  All of my work, all of my hopes.  Are they like those golden lads and girls, come to dust?

The sight crushed me.  The romantic in me had wondered if my tears would be blood.  They are not.  They are merely tears.  Base, common, and betraying any dignity I’d once shored up.

But I am master of the night… this gives me powers that Devlin lacks, and I shall use them.  More and more, the woman he loves is attractive to him because of the woman of another age who resides within.  It is the woman I am releasing.  I am responsible for all that he loves, and I will not allow him to steal my work.  Tonight, I again stood at her bed, and again, I felt the beast speak within me.  And again, I demurred.  Her journey to me must be of her own choice, so unlike that voyage on which I charted Miss Evans.  Was it a calling card, leaving the music box open beside her bed?  No.  Merely a gentle reminder of who she is.  I shall let Morpheus serenade the truth to her, and I shall wait.

I have no shortage of time.



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