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It was not for me, after these last seventy-two hours, to reject as too outlandish the possibility that the situation for him here had driven George crazy. Yet I did reject it. It was just too insipid a conclusion. Not everybody was cray. Resolute is not crazy. Deluded is not crazy. To be thwarted, vengeful, terrified, treacherous–this is not to be crazy. Not even fanatically held illusions are crazy, and deceit certainly isn’t crazy–deceit, deviousness, cunning, cynicism, all of that is far from crazy…and there, that, deceit, there was the key to my confusion. Of course!

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