it! keep it," I answered; "you are welcome to it. There are only a few
trifles in it--a bagatelle; about all I own in the world," and I became so
touched at my own words, they sounded so pathetic in the twilight, that I
fell a-weeping....

The wind freshened, the clouds chased madly across the heavens, and it
grew cooler and cooler as it got darker. I walked, and cried as I walked,
down the whole street; felt more and more commiseration with myself, and
repeated, time after time, a few words, an ejaculation, which called forth
fresh tears whenever they were on the point of ceasing: "Lord God, I feel
so wretched! Lord God, I feel so wretched!"

An hour passed; passed with such strange slowness, such weariness. I spent
a long time in Market Street; sat on steps, stole into doorways, and when
any one approached, stood and stared absently into the shops where people
bustled about with wares or money. At last I found myself a sheltered
place, behind a deal hoarding, between the church and the bazaar.

No; I couldn't go out into the woods again this evening. Things must take
their course. I had not strength enough to go, and it was such an endless
way there. I would kill the night as best I could, and remain where I was;
if it got all too cold, well, I could walk round the church. I would not
in any case worry myself any more about that, and I leant back and dozed.

The noise around me diminished; the shops closed. The steps of the
pedestrians sounded more and more rarely, and in all the windows about the
lights went out. I opened my eyes, and became aware of a figure standing
in front of me. The flash of shining buttons told me it was a policeman,
though I could not see the man's face.