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Hamsun, Knut, 1859-1952

"Hunger"

I laughed sarcastically at my delicate
rectitude, spat contemptuously in the street, and could not find words
half strong enough to mock myself for my stupidity. Let it only happen
now! Were I to find at this moment a schoolgirl's savings or a poor
widow's only penny, I would snatch it up and pocket it; steal it
deliberately, and sleep the whole night through like a top. I had not
suffered so unspeakably much for nothing--my patience was gone--I was
prepared to do anything.
I walked round the palace three, perhaps four, times, then came to the
conclusion that I would go home, took yet one little turn in the park and
went back down Carl Johann. It was now about eleven. The streets were
fairly dark, and the people roamed about in all directions, quiet pairs
and noisy groups mixed with one another. The great hour had commenced, the
pairing time when the mystic traffic is in full swing--and the hour of
merry adventures sets in. Rustling petticoats, one or two still short,
sensual laughter, heaving bosoms, passionate, panting breaths, and far
down near the Grand Hotel, a voice calling "Emma!" The whole street was a
swamp, from which hot vapours exuded.
I feel involuntarily in my pockets for a few shillings. The passion that
thrills through the movements of every one of the passers-by, the dim
light of the gas lamps, the quiet pregnant night, all commence to affect
me--this air, that is laden with whispers, embraces, trembling admissions,
concessions, half-uttered words and suppressed cries.


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