"Goodbye, Daphne."
Lee walked the streets until dawn and as he reentered his room it was to pack a bag and check his cash resources. And it was as if he had become two men walking in one skin; two minds housed in one brain. One mind was that of a fanatic; the other, reasonable and cautious.
The reasonable man said, You're a fool. They lock up people like you. Too much whiskey. Too much of a mental beating. You've gone off your rocker.
The fanatic said, He's in the Himalayas. I'm going to find him. So that's where I'm going.
The reasonable man said, You're nuts.
The fanatic said, Granted, but this nut's heading for India.
Lee flew east. Seven days later he was in Karachi. He scarcely looked at the place, his eyes turning northward toward Baluchistan; eastward toward Lucknow and Delhi. In that direction, the roof of the world was a faint blue haze on the horizon of his imagination. His face was grim and cold. Seven days had changed him. The fanatic rode high, now. The reasonable man was a dim spector lurking uneasily in the background.
He changed his money into the coin of the realm and took a train for Delhi. He rode with strange people, scarcely aware of their presence.
He discovered that traveling from Karachi to Delhi on the railroad of India was a frustrating and confusing business. He began counting his money carefully; hoarding it; haggling. When he arrived in Delhi, he was a lean, bearded stranger with a fever behind his eyes.