He shook his head persistently; kept on shaking it after I had seized the handle of the door. “Good-evening,” I said. It was not any hint from on high, thought I, and I smiled bitterly. If it came to that, I could give as good a hint as that myself. I dragged on one block after the other; now and then I rested on a step. If only I could escape being locked up. The terror of that cell pursued me all the time; left me no peace. Whenever I caught sight of a policeman in my path I staggered into a side street to avoid meeting him. Now, then, we will count a hundred steps, and try our luck again! There must be a remedy sometime.... It was a little yarn-shop--a place in which I had never before set foot; a solitary man behind the counter (there was an office beyond, with a china plate on the door) was arranging things on the shelves and counter. I waited till the last customer had left the shop--a young lady with dimples. How happy she looked! I was not backward in trying to make an impression with the pin holding my coat together. I turned, and my chest heaved. “Do you wish for anything?” queried the shopman. “Is the chief in?” I asked. “He is gone for a mountain tour in Jotunhejmen,” he replied. “Was it anything very particular, eh?” “It concerns a couple of pence for food,” I said, and I tried to smile. “I am hungry, and haven’t a fraction.” “Then you’re just about as rich as I am,” he remarked and began to tidy some packages of wool. “Ah, don’t turn me away--not now!” I said on the moment, with a cold feeling over my whole body. “I am really nearly dead with hunger; it is now many days since I have eaten anything.” With perfect gravity, without saying a word, he began to turn his pockets inside out, one by one. Would I not believe him, upon his word? What? “Only a halfpenny,” said I, “and you shall have a penny back in a couple of days.” “My dear man, do you want me to steal out of the till?” he queried, impatiently. “Yes,” said I. “Yes; take a halfpenny out of the till.” “It won’t be I that will do that,” he observed; adding, “and let me tell you, at the same time, I’ve had about enough of this.” I tore myself out, sick with hunger, and boiling with shame. I had turned myself into a dog for the sake of a miserable bone, and I had not got it. Nay, now there must be an end of this! It had really gone all too far with me. I had held myself up for many years, stood erect through so many hard hours, and now, all at once, I had sunk to the lowest form of begging. This one day had coarsened my whole mind, bespattered my soul with shamelessness. I had not been too abashed to stand and whine in the pettiest huckster’s shop, and what had it availed me? But was I not then without the veriest atom of bread to put inside my mouth? I had succeeded in rendering myself a thing loathsome to myself. Yes, yes; but it must come to an end. Presently they would lock the outer door at home? I must hurry unless I wished to lie in the guard-house again.