succeeding months of depression.

Having now no special attendant, I spent many hours in my room, alone,
but not absolutely alone, for somewhere the eye of a detective was
evermore upon me. Comparative solitude, however, gave me courage; and
soon I began to read, regardless of consequences. During the entire
period of my depression, every publication seemed to have been written
and printed for me, and me alone. Books, magazines, and newspapers
seemed to be special editions. The fact that I well knew how inordinate
would be the cost of such a procedure in no way shook my belief in it.
Indeed, that I was costing my persecutors fabulous amounts of money was
a source of secret satisfaction. My belief in special editions of
newspapers was strengthened by items which seemed too trivial to
warrant publication in any except editions issued for a special
purpose. I recall a seemingly absurd advertisement, in which the
phrase, "Green Bluefish," appeared. At the time I did not know that
"green" was a term used to denote "fresh" or "unsalted."

During the earliest stages of my illness I had lost count of time, and
the calendar did not right itself until the day when I largely regained
my reason. Meanwhile, the date on each newspaper was, according to my
reckoning, two weeks out of the way. This confirmed my belief in the
special editions as a part of the Third Degree.

Most sane people think that no insane person can reason logically. But
this is not so. Upon unreasonable premises I made most reasonable
deductions, and that at the time when my mind was in its most disturbed
condition. Had the newspapers which I read on the day which I supposed
to be February 1st borne a January date, I might not then, for so long
a time, have believed in special editions. Probably I should have