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           Then,findingittooearlytogotobed,IlaydownwithmyclothesonandbegantoreadoneofDumas’snovels.SuddenlyIwasgripped—grippedanddraggedfromthecouch.ItisonlythusthatIcandescribetheoverpoweringnatureoftheforcewhichpounceduponme.Iclawedatthecoverlet.Iclungtothewood-work.IbelievethatIscreamedoutinmyfrenzy.Itwasalluseless,hopeless.IMUSTgo.Therewasnowayoutofit.ItwasonlyattheoutsetthatIresisted.Theforcesoonbecametooovermasteringforthat.Ithankgoodnessthattherewerenowatcherstheretointerferewithme.Icouldnothaveansweredformyselfiftherehadbeen.And,besidesthedeterminationtogetout,therecametome,also,thekeenestandcoolestjudgmentinchoosingmymeans.Ilitacandleandendeavored,kneelinginfrontofthedoor,topullthekeythroughwiththefeather-endofaquillpen.Itwasjusttooshortandpusheditfurtheraway.ThenwithquietpersistenceIgotapaper-knifeoutofoneofthedrawers,andwiththatImanagedtodrawthekeyback.Iopenedthedoor,steppedintomystudy,tookaphotographofmyselffromthebureau,wrotesomethingacrossit,placeditintheinsidepocketofmycoat,andthenstartedoffforWilson’s.Itwasallwonderfullyclear,andyetdisassociatedfromtherestofmylife,astheincidentsofeventhemostvividdreammightbe.Apeculiardoubleconsciousnesspossessedme.