Although the mood was throughout one of elation, on the ninth day in the forenoon she cried at times, wanted to see her mother, and spoke in a depressed strain (content not known). A few hours after that she suddenly became quiet. 2. Then for four days (March 14-17) she was markedly inactive, though at times got out of bed. She looked about in a bewildered manner, did not speak spontaneously, but could with urging be induced to make some replies. She did this now fairly promptly, now quite slowly. Questions were apt to bring on the bewilderment. Thus, when asked where she was, she merely looked more bewildered, finally said “Bellevue--I don’t know,” and questioned who the doctor was whom she had called by name in her manic state, she said, with some bewilderment, “Your face looks familiar.” (Where have you seen me?) “In New York.” She claimed to feel all right. There was no real affect. She made the statement that at home she heard voices saying “You will be killed.” 3. Henceforth this bewilderment ceased, and for 16 or 17 days she was essentially inactive for the most part, for a short time with a tendency to catalepsy and some resistiveness, and at that time lying with eyes partly closed. As a rule she said nothing spontaneously, but replied to some questions, usually with marked retardation, again more promptly. She constantly denied feeling sad or worried, repeatedly said she felt “better,” only on one occasion did she cry a little. When asked to calculate she sometimes did it very slowly, again fairly promptly. The simple calculations were usually done without error, the others with some mistakes. As to her orientation the few answers obtained showed that at times she knew the name of the place and the day, again she gave wrong answers (Bellevue). Once asked on March 23 for the day, she said April. She wrote her name promptly on one occasion, again a sentence slowly but without mistakes. Once during the period she sang at night. Once she suddenly ran down the hall but quickly lapsed into the dull condition. On April 4, at the end of this period, she suddenly laughed, again ran down the hall, said she had done nothing to be kept on Ward’s Island. But she quickly lapsed again into the dull state. Later, on the same day, when the doctor was near, she said, in a natural tone, “Thank God, the truth is coming out.” (What do you mean?) “That I have been trusting in a false name and that Miss S. (the nurse) should not nurse me.” Then she got suddenly duller, calculated slowly and with some mistakes, 3×17=41, 4×19=56, and when asked to write Manhattan State Hospital she wrote (not very slowly) “Mannahaton Hotspalne.”