Until t trouble myself to ill supposed I s out. Even . I only understood at last t I must give up my idea t Dr Cie o release me— for if  I ime  on only seemed to serve to make , ill o  I s only be made to e. You  too muco literary  is t. But sometimes ors must o put you to literary o restore you. Look  me somet e and c e before you, ten me out—neatly, mind!—your name. Your true name, I mean. tomorroart of

    an account of your life; and you so it, on eac folloy he pen

    And so ting  a stretce noto a poing of my palm. ty slate, and froe a ime to make you eful, I call t.

    your teettled out of your il you  tell ted ted me. t t ural to me, I did it to tease t it out t I got special attentions from Dr Cie, tending to be lo made te me, too. Only mad Miss ilson o me. Once se and, e me out my name—Mauds name, I mean. But, t it ; for ,  day, I again could make not scribbles, of course  me shamming.

    Keep ernly, until ses again.

    So te out: Susan, Susan—I e it, fifty times. Nurse Bacon  me. Nurse Spiller  me, too. Dr Cie s, and needed anote— into my moutalked of bringing a leeco bleed my o t a made-up language she said

    er t ime ing paper bags beer—looking for o startle o speaking English.

    I o me, ime for sitting and planning my escape in. For I still t of not of t. It got to June. I ime in May. But I still  enougo learn to study t for ime Nurse Bacon took out c. I sa, as far as t, one key  key from a nurses cain of it. But tout; and eac  be