And time went by.
I should have to sit out this hour, too. It was a little lighter outside
than in the house, and it seemed to me that my chest did not pain quite so
badly out in the open air. I should get home, too, soon enough--and I
dozed, and thought, and suffered fearfully.
I had found a little pebble; I wiped it clean on my coat sleeve and put it
into my mouth so that I might have something to mumble. Otherwise I did
not stir, and didn't even wink an eyelid. People came and went; the noise
of cars, the tramp of hoofs, and chatter of tongues filled the air. I
might try with the buttons. Of course there would be no use in trying; and
besides, I was now in a rather bad way; but when I came to consider the
matter closely, I would be obliged, as it were, to pass in the direction
of my "Uncle's" as I went home. At last I got up, dragging myself slowly
to my feet, and reeled down the streets. It began to burn over my
eyebrows--fever was setting in, and I hurried as fast as I could. Once
more I passed the baker's shop where the little loaf lay. "Well, we must
stop here!" I said, with affected decision. But supposing I were to go in
and beg for a bit of bread? Surely that was a fleeting thought, a flash;
it could never really have occurred to me seriously. "Fie!" I whispered to
myself, and shook my head, and held on my way. In Rebslager a pair of
lovers stood in a doorway and talked together softly; a little farther up
a girl popped her head out of a window.
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