“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. There I sat down. Now, no child’s play. How in the wide world could any one prove that I had stolen? Besides, the huckster’s boy dare not give an alarm, even if it should occur to him some day how it had all happened. He valued his situation far too dearly for that. No noise, no scenes, may I beg! But all the same, this money weighed in my pocket sinfully, and gave me no peace. I began to question myself, and I became clearly convinced that I had been happier before, during the period in which I had suffered in all honour. And Ylajali? Had I, too, not polluted her with the touch of my sinful hands? Lord, O Lord my God, Ylajali! I felt as drunk as a bat, jumped up suddenly, and went straight over to the cake woman who was sitting near the chemist’s under the sign of the elephant. I might even yet lift myself above dishonour; it was far from being too late; I would show the whole world that I was capable of doing so. On the way over I got the money in readiness, held every farthing of it in my hand, bent down over the old woman’s table as if I wanted something, clapped the money without further ado into her hands. I spoke not a word, turned on my heel, and went my way.