“Here is your pass,” I said.
“Ah, you have escaped! She was there?”
“It was an ‘escape’ then?” I asked. “She really is evil?”
“She is very much to be feared,” he said.
That night I slept not at all. I did not wish to sleep: I was afraid to surrender myself to the Unknown. I kept my light burning and, to pass the time, ruled many sheets of paper with the bass and treble clefs, and began to write down Beethoven’s “Sonate Pathétique” from memory. Strange how this noble music seemed to decay as it passed through my mind! Strange how the familiar melodies were tinged with wickedness!...
Night passed and dawn came early. At seven o’clock I rang my bell and when the chambermaid appeared I ordered my breakfast.
“Will Monsieur have it in his room?”
“No” said I. “I will have it downstairs in half an hour. Please have my bill made out ready for me.”
The dining-room was deserted as I sat down. A waiter came.
“Where is Lovelace?” I asked.