V.

A GROUP OF PORTRAITS

With the reader's permission I beg, at this point of my narrative, to
indulge in one or two extrinsic observations.

In the preceding pages I have described my Pilgrim's Progress from the
Slough of Despond, commonly known as Section Sanitaire Vingt-et-Un (then
located at Germaine) through the mysteries of Noyon, Gre and Paris to the
Porte de Triage de La Ferte Mace, Orne. With the end of my first day as a
certified inhabitant of the latter institution a definite progression is
brought to a close. Beginning with my second day at La Ferte a new period
opens. This period extends to the moment of my departure and includes the
discovery of The Delectable Mountains, two of which--The Wanderer and I
shall not say the other--have already been sighted. It is like a vast
grey box in which are laid helter-skelter a great many toys, each of
which is itself completely significant apart from the always unchanging
temporal dimension which merely contains it along with the rest. I make
this point clear for the benefit of any of my readers who have not had
the distinguished privilege of being in jail. To those who have been in
jail my meaning is at once apparent; particularly if they have had the
highly enlightening experience of being in jail with a perfectly
indefinite sentence. How, in such a case, could events occur and be
remembered otherwise than as individualities distinct from Time Itself?
Or, since one day and the next are the same to such a prisoner, where
does Time come in at all? Obviously, once the prisoner is habituated to
his environment, once he accepts the fact that speculation as to when he
will regain his liberty cannot possibly shorten the hours of his
incarceration and may very well drive him into a state of unhappiness