"Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed
to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I
could not enter for the way was barred to me. Then, like all dreamers,
I was possessed of a sudden, the supernatural powers and passed like a
spirit through the barrier before me. The drive wound away in front of
me, twisting and turning as it had always done. But as I advanced, I was
aware that a change had come upon it. Nature had come into her own again,
and little by little had encroached upon the drive with long tenacious
fingers, on and on while the poor thread that had once been our drive.
And finally, there was Manderley. Manderley, secretive and silent. Time
could not mar the perfect symmetry of those walls. Moonlight can play odd
tricks upon the fancy, and suddenly it seemed to me that light came from
the windows. And then a cloud came upon the moon and hovered an instant
like a dark hand before a face. The illusion went with it. I looked upon
a desolate shell, with no whisper of a past about its staring walls. We
can never go back to Manderley again. That much is certain. But sometimes,
in my dreams, I do go back to the strange days of my life which began for
me in the south of France..." --the second Mrs. de Winter.
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