effect would be lacking. He would only be over and again ridiculous, like a detected schoolboy. But why run? He would go once more into that place, would look her up like anybody else, would treat her like anybody else, would pay her like anybody else,—for had she not a superb body, and would it not be glorious to abate the fire of his passion by it? . . . a dainty morsel {{...} why had he not thought sooner of it? Then he could again sit with a clear brow in the circle of his friends.
A gloomy, leaden night descended upon the jumble of streets. The sky was filled with heavy clouds, and stifling vapors rose into the hot air. The gaslight flickered weakly. Here and there a few small drops fell on the dust of the pavement. A murky moment that chokes the human throat. The soul is crowded in an awful circle, in which it tosses about aimlessly and hopelessly. Gloomy thoughts strike it; gloomy scenes
