"Yes; it was all settled yesterday evening."
This nonplussed him completely. He believed me implicitly. I lied in the
most accomplished manner to get rid of him. We ordered the beer, drank it,
and left.
"Well, good-bye! O listen," he said suddenly. "I owe you a few shillings.
It is a shame, too, that I haven't paid you long ago, but now you shall
have them during the next few days."
"Yes, thanks," I replied; but I knew that he would never pay me back the
few shillings. The beer, I am sorry to say, went almost immediately to my
head. The thought of the previous evening's adventure overwhelmed me--made
me delirious. Supposing she were not to meet me on Tuesday! Supposing she
were to begin to think things over, to get suspicious ... get suspicious
of what?... My thoughts gave a jerk and dwelt upon the money. I grew
afraid; deadly afraid of myself. The theft rushed in upon me in all its
details. I saw the little shop, the counter, my lean hands as I seized the
money, and I pictured to myself the line of action the police would adopt
when they would come to arrest me. Irons on my hands and feet; no, only on
my hands; perhaps only on one hand. The dock, the clerk taking down the
evidence, the scratch of his pen--perhaps he might take a new one for the
occasion--his look, his threatening look. There, Herr Tangen, to the cell,
the eternally dark....
Humph! I clenched my hands tightly to try and summon courage, walked
faster and faster, and came to the market-place.
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