his favors after me into my new quarters. At first he came in person to
see me, but the superintendent soon forbade that, and also ordered him
not to communicate with me in any way. It was this disagreement, and
others naturally arising between such a doctor and such an attendant,
that soon brought about the discharge of the latter. But "discharge" is
hardly the word, for he had become disgusted with the institution, and
had remained so long only because of his interest in me. Upon leaving,
he informed the owner that he would soon cause my removal from the
institution. This he did. I left the sanatorium in March, 1901, and
remained for three months in the home of this kindly fellow, who lived
with a grandmother and an aunt in Wallingford, a town not far from New
Haven.

It is not to be inferred that I entertained any affection for my
friendly keeper. I continued to regard him as an enemy; and my life at
his home became a monotonous round of displeasure. I took my three
meals a day. I would sit listlessly for hours at a time in the house.
Daily I went out--accompanied, of course--for short walks about the
town. These were not enjoyable. I believed everybody was familiar with
my black record and expected me to be put to death. Indeed, I wondered
why passers-by did not revile or even stone me. Once I was sure I heard
a little girl call me "Traitor!" That, I believe, was my last "false
voice," but it made such an impression that I can even now recall
vividly the appearance of that dreadful child. It was not surprising
that a piece of rope, old and frayed, which someone had carelessly
thrown on a hedge by a cemetery that I sometimes passed, had for me
great significance.

During these three months I again refused to read books, though within
my reach, but I sometimes read newspapers. Still I would not speak,