in their
cells, an' pray, even in the middle of the night, an' shave their heads
an' live on a few vegetables an' dry bread."

I laughed with her. Certainly no convent would harbor my lady of
marvelous tresses and magical perfume, of wild fancies and heretical
theories. That thought of mine was indeed far afield. But where, then,
was I next to seek?

I made a detour and used some strategy to gain a view of the Senator's
daughters. They proved to be brunettes who wore their locks cropped
after the fashion of certain Greenwich villagers. My disappointment was
not great; my lady was not suggestive of a boarding-school miss. But I
had hoped to find somewhere a trace of the copper-bronze head whose
royalty of hair I had shorn as the traitors shore King Childeric's
Gothic locks.

I drove home with a sense of blankness upon me. Suppose she never came
again? Suppose the episode was ended? Not even freedom from the Thing
could compensate for the baffled adventure.

Think of the lame feller with an Adventure!

CHAPTER X

"Plato expresses four kinds of Mania--Firstly, the musical;
secondly, the telestic or mystic; thirdly, the prophetic; and
fourthly, that which belongs to Love."--PREFACE TO ZANONI.

For myself, I have always found that excitement stimulates imagination.
There are others, I know, who can do no creative work except when all
within and without is lulled and calm. Perhaps I have too much calm as
an ordinary thing! That evening, when I went to my room, lighted my
lamps and closed my door, I stood alone for awhile breathing the mingled
sweetness of the country air and the pomander ball. In that interval,
there came to me, complete and whole as a gift thrust into my hand, the
melody which an enthusiastic publisher since assured me has reached
every ear in America.

As to that extravagant statement, I can only measure by the preposterous
amount of money the melody has brought me. Perhaps there is a magic
about it. For myself, I cannot hear it--ground on a street-organ, given
on the stage, played on a phonograph record or delicately rendered by an
orchestra--without feeling again the exaltation and enchantment of that
night.

I flung myself down at my writing-table, tossing my former work right
and left to make room for this. If it should escape before I could set
it down! If the least of those airy cadences should be lost!

At three o'clock in the morning I came back to realization of