MINA HARKER'S JOURNAL
22 September.--In the train to Exeter. Jonathan sleeping. It seems
only yesterday that the last entry was made, and yet how much between
then, in Whitby and all the world before me, Jonathan away and no news
of him, and now, married to Jonathan, Jonathan a solicitor, a partner,
rich, master of his business, Mr. Hawkins dead and buried, and
Jonathan with another attack that may harm him. Some day he may ask
me about it. Down it all goes. I am rusty in my shorthand, see what
unexpected prosperity does for us, so it may be as well to freshen it
up again with an exercise anyhow.
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