I looked back, with nameless emotions, on the days of my infancy.

I called up the image of my mother.
I reflected on the infatuation of my surviving parent, and the usurpation of the detestable Betty, with horror.

I viewed myself as the most calamitous and desolate of human beings.
At this time I was sitting in the common room.

There were others in the same apartment, lounging, or whistling, or singing.

I noticed them not, but, leaning my head upon my hand, I delivered myself up to painful and intense meditation.