Granice saw huge comic opportunities in the type.

But as he walked away, his fears dispelled, the sense of
listlessness returned on him. For the first time since his avowal to
Peter Ascham he found himself without an occupation, and understood
that he had been carried through the past weeks only by the
necessity of constant action. Now his life had once more become a
stagnant backwater, and as he stood on the street corner watching
the tides of traffic sweep by, he asked himself despairingly how
much longer he could endure to float about in the sluggish circle of
his consciousness.

The thought of self-destruction recurred to him; but again his flesh
recoiled. He yearned for death from other hands, but he could never
take it from his own. And, aside from his insuperable physical
reluctance, another motive restrained him. He was possessed by the
dogged desire to establish the truth of his story. He refused to be
swept aside as an irresponsible dreamer--even if he had to kill
himself in the end, he would not do so before proving to society
that he had deserved death from it.

He began to write long letters to the papers; but after the first
had been published and commented on, public curiosity was quelled by
a brief statement from the District Attorney's office, and the rest
of his communications remained unprinted. Ascham came to see him,
and begged him to travel. Robert Denver dropped in, and tried to
joke him out of his delusion; till Granice, mistrustful of their
motives, began to dread the reappearance of Dr. Stell, and set a
guard on his lips. But the words he kept back engendered others and