If only there were a sufficient cause! I must not think about this too much, or I may be tempted. A good reason might turn the scale with me. After all, I too may have an exceptional brain, congenitally.

How well the man reasoned. Lunatics always do within their own scope. I wonder at how many lives he values a man, or if at only one. He has closed the account very precisely. Today he has begun a new record. How many of us start afresh with each day of our lives? To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it shall be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance showing profit or loss.

Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you, nor can I be angry with my friend whose happiness is yours, but I must only carry on on, without hope, and work. Work! Work! If I could have as good a reason as my poor, mad friend there. A good, unselfish cause to make me work, that would be indeed happiness.