walled space in which I could seclude
myself, free from external annoyance. Certain comforts of civilized life
I ceased even to regret; a stair-carpet I regarded as rather extravagant,
and a carpet on the floor of my room was luxury undreamt of. My sleep
was sound; I have passed nights of dreamless repose on beds which it
would now make my bones ache only to look at. A door that locked, a fire
in winter, a pipe of tobacco--these were things essential; and, granted
these, I have been often richly contented in the squalidest garret. One
such lodging is often in my memory; it was at Islington, not far from the
City Road; my window looked upon the Regent's Canal. As often as I think
of it, I recall what was perhaps the worst London fog I ever knew; for
three successive days, at least, my lamp had to be kept burning; when I
looked through the window, I saw, at moments, a few blurred lights in the
street beyond the Canal, but for the most part nothing but a yellowish
darkness, which caused the glass to reflect the firelight and my own
face. Did I feel miserable? Not a bit of it. The enveloping gloom
seemed to make my chimney-corner only the more cosy. I had coals, oil,
tobacco in sufficient quantity; I had a book to read; I had work which
interested me; so I went forth only to get my meals at a City Road coffee-
shop, and hastened back to the fireside. Oh, my ambitions, my hopes! How
surprised and indignant I should have felt had I known of any one who
pitied me!

Nature took revenge now and then. In winter time I had fierce sore
throats, sometimes accompanied by long and savage headaches. Doctoring,
of course, never occurred to me; I just locked my door, and, if I felt
very bad indeed, went to bed--to lie there, without food or drink, till I
was able to look after myself again. I could never ask from a landlady
anything which was not in our bond, and only once or twice did I receive
spontaneous offer of help. Oh, it is wonderful to think of all that
youth can endure! What