"During the next few days I considered very earnestly what measures I
could take to avert the doom that seemed to be hanging over me. The
simplest plan, that of passing the pearl on to some other person, was
out of the question; it would be nothing short of murder. On the other
hand, I could not wait for an answer to my letter; for even if I
remained alive, I felt that my reason would have given way long before
the reply reached me. But while I was debating what I should do, the
mandarin appeared to me again; and then, after an interval of only two
days, he came to me once more. That was last night. I remained gazing at
him, fascinated, with my flesh creeping, as he stood, lantern in hand,
looking steadily in my face. At last he held out his hand to me, as if
asking me to give him the pearl; then the mirror darkened, and he
vanished in a flash; and in the place where he had stood there was my
own reflection looking at me out of the glass.
"That last visitation decided me. When I left home this morning the
pearl was in my pocket, and as I came over Waterloo Bridge, I leaned
over the parapet and flung the thing into the water.
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