CHAPTER XII

I “MAY 4, 19— “One o’clock is a somewhat unearthly hour to be writing in a journal. The truth is, I’ve been undergoing a white night. I can’t sleep and I’m tired of lying in the dark fancying things—unpleasant things—so I’ve lighted my candle and hunted up my old diary to ‘write it out.’ “I’ve never written in this journal since the night I burned my book and fell downstairs—and died. Coming back to life to find everything chang…