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He met no one, not a soul, afterwards on the way to his room; the

landlady's door was shut. When he was in his room, he flung

himself on the sofa just as he was--he did not sleep, but sank

into blank forgetfulness. If anyone had come into his room then,

he would have jumped up at once and screamed. Scraps and shreds

of thoughts were simply swarming in his brain, but he could not

catch at one, he could not rest on one, in spite of all his

efforts....

PART II

CHAPTER I

So he lay a very long while. Now and then he seemed to wake up,

and at such moments he noticed that it was far into the night,

but it did not occur to him to get up. At last he noticed that it

was beginning to get light. He was lying on his back, still dazed

from his recent oblivion. Fearful, despairing cries rose shrilly

from the street, sounds which he heard every night, indeed, under

his window after two o'clock. They woke him up now.