the title of the book that stared me in the face. After refusing for a
long time I finally weakened and signed the slip; but I did not place
it on the book. To have done that would, in my mind, have been
tantamount to giving consent to extradition; and I was in no mood to
assist the detectives in their mean work. At what cost had I signed
that commitment slip? To me it was the act of signing my own
death-warrant.




VI


During the entire time that my delusions of persecution, as they are
called, persisted, I could not but respect the mind that had laid out
so comprehensive and devilishly ingenious and, at times, artistic a
Third Degree as I was called upon to bear. And an innate modesty (more
or less fugitive since these peculiar experiences) does not forbid my
mentioning the fact that I still respect that mind.

Suffering such as I endured during the month of August in my own home
continued with gradually diminishing force during the eight months I
remained in this sanatorium. Nevertheless my sufferings during the
first four of these eight months was intense. All my senses were still
perverted. My sense of sight was the first to right itself--nearly
enough, at least, to rob the detectives of their moving pictures. But
before the last fitful film had run through my mind, I beheld one which
I shall now describe. I can trace it directly to an impression made on
my memory about two years earlier, before my breakdown.