Left alone, I began thinking of Charlotte. I loved her; of that I was
certain. I could not compare her with the Nervina. She was like myself,
human. I had known her since boyhood. The other was out of the ether; my
love for her was something different; she was of dreams and moonbeams;
there was a film about her beauty, illusion; she was of spirit.
I wrote a note to the detective and left it upon my desk. After that I
packed a suitcase and hurried to the station. If I was going I would do
it at once, I could not trust myself too far. This visit had been like
a breath of air; for the moment I was away from the isolation. The
loneliness and the weariness! How I dreaded it! I was only free from
it for a few moments. On the train it came back upon me and in a manner
that was startling.
I had purchased my ticket. When the conductor came through he passed me.
He gathered tickets all about me; but he did not notice me. At first I
paid no attention; but when he had gone through the car several times I
held up my ticket. He did not stop. It was not until I had touched him
that he gave me a bit of attention.
“Where have you been sitting?” he asked.