This was
becoming serious. What was the disturbing influence? It could not be
physical fatigue. On the contrary, my mind was unusually alert, and in a
more receptive condition than usual. I made a new and determined effort
to read, and for a short time succeeded in giving my whole attention to
my subject. But in a very few moments again I found myself leaning back
in my chair, staring vacantly into space.
Something was evidently at work in my sub-consciousness. There was
something I had neglected to do. Perhaps the kitchen door and windows
were not fastened. I accordingly went to see, and found that they were!
The fire perhaps needed attention. I went in to see, and found that it
was all right! I looked at the lamps, went upstairs into every bedroom
in turn, and then went round the house, and even into the ice-house.
Nothing was wrong; everything was in its place. Yet something _was_
wrong! The conviction grew stronger and stronger within me.
When I at length settled down to my books again and tried to read, I
became aware, for the first time, that the room seemed growing cold.
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