He felt convinced that a more genial mood would
possess him were he to diminish even by a few miles the distance that
separated him from the home for which he longed. It was necessary to
hasten, so that he might be sure of booking a place in the diligence. It
was to leave at eventide by the eastward road. There was little else
to do, for he really need not bother to pay a farewell visit to
Baron Perotti. Half an hour would suffice for the packing of all his
possessions. He thought of the two suits, the shabbier of which he
was wearing at that moment; of the much darned, though once elegant,
underlinen. With two or three snuffboxes, a gold watch and chain, and a
few books, these comprised his whole worldly wealth. He called to mind
past splendors, when he had travelled as a man of distinction,
driving in a fine carriage; when he had been well furnished both with
necessaries and with superfluities; when he had even had his own
servingman--who had usually, of course, been a rogue. These memories
brought impotent anger in their train, and his eyes filled with tears.
A young woman drove towards him, whip in hand. In her little cart, amid
sacks and various odds and ends, lay her husband, drunk and snoring.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25