I connected space and gloom with solitude and reflection, and felt as if I could not have sat down before a muslin-draped window, filled with scarlet geraniums and yellow canariensis, to ponder upon ‘The Origin of Dreams,’ to save my life. At last I came upon what I wanted. Down a narrow street, into which the sun seemed never to have penetrated, I found some tall, irregular, dingy-looking buildings—most of which appeared to be occupied as insurance, wine, or law offices,—and in the lower window of one there hung a card with the inscription, ‘Apartments for a Single Gentleman.’ It was just the place from which to watch and wait—in which to ponder, and compare, and compose,—and I ascended its broken steps, convinced that the birthplace of ‘The Origin of Dreams’ was found. A middle-aged woman, with an intelligent, pleasing face answered my summons to the door. The weekly rent she asked for the occupation of the vacant apartments sounded to me absurdly low, but perhaps that was due to my experience of the exorbitant demands of London landladies. But when I explained to her the reason for which I desired her rooms, namely, that I might sit up at night and write undisturbed, her countenance visibly fell. ‘I’m afraid they won’t suit you, then, sir.’ ‘Why not? Have you any objection to my studying by night?’ ‘Oh, no, sir. You could do as you pleased about that!’ ‘What then? Will your other lodgers disturb me?’ Her face twitched as she answered, ‘I have no other lodgers, sir.’ ‘Do you live in this big house, then, by yourself?’ ‘My husband and I have been in charge of it for years, and are permitted to occupy the lower floor in consideration of keeping the upper rooms (which are only used as offices in the day-time) clean and in order. But the clerks are all gone by five o’clock, so they wouldn’t interfere with your night-work.’ ‘What will, then?’ ‘I’m afraid there are a good many rats about the place, sir. They _will_ breed in these old houses, and keep up a racket at night.’ ‘Oh, I don’t mind the rats,’ I answered, cheerfully. ‘I’ll catch as many as I can for you, and frighten away the others. If that is your only objection, the rooms are mine. May I see them?’ ‘Certainly, sir,’ she said, as she closed the door behind me and led the way into two lofty and spacious chambers, connected by folding-doors, which had once formed the dining-saloon of a splendid mansion. ‘The owners of the house permit us to occupy this floor and the basement, and as it’s more than we require, we let these rooms to lodgers. They’re not very grandly furnished, sir, but it’s all neat and clean.’ She threw open the shutters of the further apartment as she spoke, and the July sun streamed into the empty room. As its rays fell upon the unmade bed, my eye followed them and caught sight of a deep indentation in the mattress. The landlady saw it also, and looked amazed.