were to cease, they continued spasmodically for
weeks, and I was still as far away from the interpretation of the
problem as ever. Once I sought medical advice, but the doctor could
discover nothing wrong with me except what might be caused by tobacco,
and, following his advice, I left off smoking. He said I had no malaria;
that I needed more exercise, perhaps; but he could not account for my
insomnia, for I, like most patients, had concealed the vital facts in my
case, and had complained of insomnia as the cause of my anxiety about my
health.

The approach of spring tempted me out-of-doors, and in the warm villa
gardens and the sun-bathed Campagna I could sometimes forget the
nightmare that haunted me. This was not often possible unless I was in
the company of cheerful companions, and I grew to dread the hour when I
was to return to the studio after an excursion into the country among
the soothing signs of returning summer. To shut the clanging door of the
studio was to place an impenetrable barrier between me and the outside
world, and the loneliness of that interior seemed to be only intensified
by the presence of my companion, who was apparently as much depressed in
spirits as myself.

We made various attempts at the entertainment of friends, but they all
lacked that element of spontaneous fun which makes such occasions
successful, and we gave it up. On pleasant days we threw open the
windows on the street to let in the warm air and sunshine, but this did
not seem to drive away the musty odors of the interior. We were much too
high up to feel any neighborly proximity to the people on the other side
of the street. The chimney-pots and irregular roofs below and beyond
were not very cheerful objects in the view, and the landlady, who, as
far as we knew, was the only other occupant of the upper story, did not
give us a great sense of companionship. Never once did I enter the
studio without feeling the same curious sensation of alternate warm and
cool strata of air. Never for a quarter of an hour did I succeed in
reading a book or a newspaper, however interesting it might be. We
frequently had two models at a time, and both my friend and myself made
several beginnings of pictures, but neither of us carried the work very
far.

On one occasion a significant remark was made by a lady friend who came
to call. She will undoubtedly remember now when she reads these lines
that she said, on leaving the studio: "This is a cur