one o'clock
He chose the one that had the greatest emotional possibilities . Gora Dwight had told him that he must learn to `` externalize his emotions , '' and he felt that here was the supreme opportunity . Never would he have more turgid , pent-up , tearing emotions to get rid of than now . He wrote until one o'clock , then , after lunch and two hours on his column , went out and took a long walk ; but lighter of heart than since he had met Mary Zattiany . He also reflected with no little satisfaction that when writing on the play he had barely thought of her . All the fire in him had flown to his head and transported him to another plane ; he wondered if any woman , save in brief moments , could rival the ecstasy of mental creation . That rotten spot in the brain , dislocation of particles , whatever it was that enabled a few men to do what the countless millions never dreamed of attempting , or attempt only to fail , was , through its very abnormality , productive of a higher and more sustained delight , a more complete annihilation of prosaic life , than any mere function bestowed on all men alike .