There happened to be on the fourth floor of the same house an old and learned German.

I determined to learn his language; the German was poor and friendless, and willingly accepted the task of instructing me.

My perpetual state of distraction worried him.

How many times he waited in patient astonishment while I, seated near him with a smoking lamp between us, sat with my arms crossed on my book, lost in revery, oblivious of his presence and of his pity.
"My dear sir," said I to him one day, "all this is useless, but you are the best of men.

What a task you have undertaken! You must leave me to my fate; we can do nothing, neither you nor I." I do not know that he understood my meaning, but he grasped my hand and there was no more talk of German.
I soon realized that solitude, instead of curing me, was doing me harm, and so I completely changed my system.