type="chapter">
			<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">I</h2>
			<p>I scarcely know where to begin, though I sometimes facetiously place the cause of it all to Charley Furusethâ€™s credit. He kept a summer cottage in Mill Valley, under the shadow of Mount Tamalpais, and never occupied it except when he loafed through the winter months and read Nietzsche and Schopenhauer to rest his brain. When summer came on, he elected to sweat out a hot and dusty existence in the city and to toil incessantly. Had it 