" 'Take me into the library and bring the light to the bookcase.' For half an hour or longer he sought vainly among books, behind books, and in desk and table-drawers that had not been opened for a long time. His man helped him into bed, arranged the reading-lamp upon the table near him, put the bell and the pitcher of water within his reach, and went into his own little room adjoining. Presently the house was quiet, save for the striking clocks, but while the lantern burned at the cross-roads, another light burned too. Impatient, and bitterly rebellious, Chandler sat up in bed until sunrise, reading through his entire list of 'People Who Are Worse Off Than I Am.' "
(~ A Weaver of Dreams, Chapter III, page 45)