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11 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 16, 1900
It was the exact kind of abode that I had been looking after for weeks, for I was in that condition of mind when absolute renunciation of society was a necessity. I had become diffident of myself, and wearied of my kind. A strange unrest was in my blood; a barren dearth in my brains. Familiar objects and faces had grown distasteful to me. I wanted to be alone.
This is the mood which comes upon every sensitive and artistic mind when the possessor has been overworked or living too long in one groove.