I was ill in Leipzig, though I didn't know it.

But Dick Cameron told me I ought not to have been going about there.

I suppose since then I have been quite off my head.

But, oh, Helen, can't you see--- can't you _see_, darling--that I am all right again now?
I can remember practically nothing which has happened since I played my 'cello in front of the mirror in the studio.
But, up to that moment, I remember everything quite clearly; my travels, my manuscript, the time when I began to get feverish and lost my sleep--I can see now the very spot where I camped when I had my first nightmare.

Then working night and day on board ship, then Leipzig, the Hague, London in a fog; then home--to you.