I mustn't let this get the better of me now.

I'll knock off for to-day, take a little rest, begin again to-morrow." In ten minutes he was back at his easel again.

His charcoal wandered, tracing empty lines on his canvas, the strange numbness grew again in his head.

All the objects in the range of his eyes seemed to move back and stand on the same plane.

He became a little dizzy.
"It's the _tobacco_," he exclaimed.