fetch some of the people over
that knew me. You'll find I'm--myself and that I've told you no lie."

"We will do anything you like," said Simms, "but first let us go down to
the library."

They went. It was a large, pleasant room lined with books.

Simms sat down at the writing-table, whilst the others took chairs. He
wrote a prescription, and the Duke, ringing the bell, ordered a servant
to take the prescription to the chemists.

Then during the twenty minutes before the servant returned they talked.
Jones, giving again his address, that fantastic address which was yet
real, and the names and descriptions of people he knew and who would
know him.

"You see, gentlemen," said he, "it's just this, I have only one crave in
life just now, to be myself again. Not exactly that, but to be
recognized as myself. You can't imagine what that feeling is. You
needn't tell me. I know exactly what you think, you think I'm Rochester
gone crazy. I know the yarn I've slung you sounds crazy, but it's the
truth. The fact is I've felt at times that if I didn't get someone to
recognize me as myself I'd _go_ crazy. Just one person to believe in me,
that's all I want and then I'd feel free of this cursed Rochester. Put
yourself in my place. Imagine that you have lost touch with everything
you ever were, that you were playing another man's part and that
everyone in the world kept on insisting you were the other guy. Think of
that for a position. Why, gentlemen, you might open that door wide. I
wouldn't want to go out, not till I had convinced one of you at all
events that my story was true. I wouldn't want to go back to the States,
not till I had convinced you that I am who I am. It seems foolish but
it's a bed-rock fact. I have to make good on this position, convince
someone who knows the facts, and so get myself back. It wouldn't be any
use my going to Philadelphia. I'd say to people I know there, 'I'm
Jones.' They'd say, 'Of course you are,' and believe me. But then, do
you see, they wouldn't know of this adventure and their belief in me
wouldn't be a bit of good. Of course I _know_ I'm Jones, all the same
I've been playing the part of Rochester so hard that times I've almost
believed I'm him, times I've lost myself, and I have a feeling at the
back of my mind that if I don't get someone to believe me to be who I
am, I may go dotty in earnest. It's a feeling without reason, I know.
It's more like having a grit in the eye than anything