Now tell me how you are as to religion?
You are a clear good man--but I rather fear
You have not much of it.

_Faust_.


It was all very well to talk about going away; but the matter looked
very differently by daylight. It was Sunday; and I knew I could not go
away for a day or two, and not even then without making a horrid sort of
stir, for which I had not the courage in cold blood. Besides, I did not
even know that I wanted to go if I could. Varick-street! Hateful,
hateful thought. No, I could not go there. And though (by daylight) I
still detested Mary Leighton, and felt ashamed about Richard, and
remembered all Mr. Langenau's words (sweet as well as bitter),
everything was let down a great many degrees; from the heights of
passion into the plains of commonplace.

My great excitement had worked its own cure, and I was so dull and weary
that I did not even want to think of what had passed the night before.
If I had a sentiment that retained any strength, it was that of shame
and self-contempt. I could not think of myself in any way that did not
make me blush. When, however, it came to the moment of facing every one,
and going down to breakfast, I began to know I still had some
other feelings.

I was the last to go down. The bell had rung a very long while before I
left my room. I took my seat at the table without looking at any one,
though, of course, every one looked at me. My confused and rather