NOTEBOOK

We are on the second floor from the ground. There's a
W.C. on the floor above us and one on the floor below us.
Halls pitch dark. I groped my way and found the upper
W.C. Starting to return, I went up stairs instead of down,
and went to what I supposed was my room, but I could
not make out the number in the dark and was afraid to
enter it. Then I remembered that I—no, my mind lost
confidence and began to wander. I was no longer sure as
to what floor I was on, and the minute I realized that,
the rest of my mind went. One cannot stand still in a dark
hall at two in the morning, lost, and be content One must
move and go on moving, even at the risk of getting worse
lost. I groped up and down a couple of those flights, over
and over again, cursing to myself. And every time I
thought I heard somebody coming, I shrank together like
one of those toy balloons when it collapses. You see, I
was between two fires; I could not grope to the top floor
and start fresh and count down to my own, for it was all
occupied by young ladies and a dangerous place to get
caught in, clothed as I was clothed, and not in my right
mind. I could not grope down to the ground floor and
count up, for there was a ball down there. A ball, and
young ladies likely to be starting up to bed about this
time. And so they were. I saw the glow of their distant
candle, I felt the chill of their distant cackle. I did not
know whether I was on a W.C. floor or not, but I had to
take a risk. I groped to the door that ought to be it—
right where you turn down the stairs; and it was it. I
entered it grateful, and stood in its dark shelter with a
beating heart and thought how happy I should be to live
there always, in that humble cot, and go out no more
among life's troubles and dangers. Several of the young
ladies applied for admission, but I was not receiving.
Thursdays being my day. I meant to freeze out the ball
if it took a week. And I did. When the drone and burr
of its music had ceased for twenty minutes and the house

239