"
Doctor Volney shook his head.
"The disease exists," he said. "You need a change or a rest. Court-room,
office and home--there is the only route you travel. For recreation
you--read law books. Better take warning in time."
"On Thursday nights," I said, defensively, "my wife and I play cribbage.
On Sundays she reads to me the weekly letter from her mother. That law
books are not a recreation remains yet to be established."
That morning as I walked I was thinking of Doctor Volney's words. I was
feeling as well as I usually did--possibly in better spirits than usual.
I woke with stiff and cramped muscles from having slept long on the
incommodious seat of a day coach. I leaned my head against the seat and
tried to think. After a long time I said to myself: "I must have a name
of some sort." I searched my pockets. Not a card; not a letter; not a
paper or monogram could I find. But I found in my coat pocket nearly
$3,000 in bills of large denomination. "I must be some one, of course,"
I repeated to myself, and began again to consider.
The car was well crowded with men, among whom, I told myself, there must
have been some common interest, for they intermingled freely, and seemed
in the best good humor and spirits.
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