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At “Sans Souci,” on the contrary, I was not ashamed to be up with the first chirp of a robin, or to lie abed till ten: to make a hearty luncheon, or skip that interesting function altogether, as fancy prompted: to doze over a book till midnight, or to be hand and glove with Morpheus before the light was fairly out of the west. I knew what the weather was, but never the precise time of day. I felt that I was hungry, or not hungry, but never that I should not eat or should. I slept at noonday as shamelessly as at midnight. If there was any convention about my life at all, it was a convention to which there was only one delegate, and every motion I made was secure from opposition. In this enlightened republic there are eighty-five millions of inhabitants, and of these, perhaps eighty-five are absolutely free. I was a member of the glorious minority — and the most pathetic figure Miss Susie Berrith had ever seen! From the moment of its utterance, I have never been able to consider