He would overlook the old grief, he would put away the old ethic, he would be free in his new state.
He was aware of the pain in his head becoming more and more difficult every minute.

He was walking now along the road to the nearest station.
It was raining and he had no hat.

But then plenty of cranks went out nowadays without hats, in the rain.
He wondered again how much of his heaviness of heart, a certain depression, was due to fear, fear lest anybody should have seen him naked lying against the vegetation.

What a dread he had of mankind, of other people! It amounted almost to horror, to a sort of dream terror--his horror of being observed by some other people.

If he were on an island, like Alexander Selkirk, with only the creatures and the trees, he would be free and glad, there would be none of this heaviness, this misgiving.