It is--as I see on looking at my last date--five days since I wrote
in this record. I have been very ill; part of the time quite
delirious, I think. How fortunate that I have been alone Yes, even
if I had died alone, how fortunate. The red-haired Denbighshire
girl, who brings up my meals sometimes, I am quite sure, knocked in
vain for entrance, so stertorous have been my slumbers; for
although she has not a command of English sufficient to communicate
that fact to me, I infer it from having found the salver, with my
food all cold upon it, placed on the floor outside my room, long
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