The flood of notes continuing, she began to destroy them unread, hoping that this would discourage B's malicious activity. It only made matters worse, for B now began to affix the notes to the center of her mirror, pasting above them inscriptions warning her to be sure to read them, and declaring that they contained--as they sometimes did--information of importance to her. But the best idea of the topsyturvy, kaleidoscopic, almost incredible life led by this woman with a double existence may be given by quoting a few extracts from a diary kept jointly by the two personalities, at Doctor Prince's suggestion. Unique as a record of human experiences, it had a distinctly practical value, for it enabled A to keep track of what she had been doing while B was in control. B, of course, had no need of it for this purpose, since, as was said, she did not suffer from loss of memory, like A. The extracts quoted are not always in chronological order; but, for the present purpose, that is unimportant: "I am here again to-night, B, I am. I may as well tell all I have done, I suppose. For one thing, I had a facial massage--there is no need of being a mass of wrinkles. I know A doesn't care how she looks, but I do. The Q's spent the evening here, and I smoked a cigarette. Now, A, don't go and tell Doctor Prince; you don't have to tell him everything--you do it, though. I _must_ have a little fun." "I have struggled through another day. B has told what she did. How _can_ I bear it? How explain? I am so humiliated, so ashamed. Why should I do things which so mortify my pride? Quite ill all day. I am, as usual, paying for B's 'fun.' It is not to be borne." "A terrible day--one of the worst for a long time. I _cannot_ live this way; it is not to be expected. I am so confused. I have lost so much time now that I can't seem to catch up. What is the end to be? What will become of me?" "A was used up, and had to stay in bed all the morning, but I came about one o'clock, and Mrs. X asked me to motor down to Z. Had a gorgeous ride, and got home at seven, nearly famished, for A had eaten nothing all day--she lives on coffee and somnos--nice combination!--steak and French fried for mine, please." "Good gracious! How we fly around! A has been ill all the day, could not sleep last night. I hope he [Doctor Prince] won't send for us, for he will put a quietus on me, and, as things are now, I am gaining on A. Had a gay evening--no discussions of religion or psychology, no dissecting of hearts and souls while I am in the flesh." "I wonder if A is really dead--for good and all? It seems like it. The thought rather frightens me some way, as if I had lost my balance wheel. She wants to die, she really does, for she thinks it to herself all the time. I wish I were myself alone, and neither A nor B; I cannot bear to hear A groan, she cannot bear my glee."