Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. I can bear anything but suspense. There is no Heaven for your mother. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. He blurted, “I was just telling Lucy that I have finished an important work. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. I've been thinking about it ever since morning. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room.
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