Ojen
continued alone. He proved a few moments afterward that he had not lost
all his interest in human beings; he had calumniated himself. To the very
first hussy who hailed him he gave, absent-mindedly, every penny he had
left, and continued his way in silence. He had not spoken a word; his
slender, nervous figure disappeared in the darkness before the girl could
even manage to thank him--
And at last everything is still; the winches fall to rest along the
wharves; the town has turned in. From afar, nobody knows from where, comes
the sound of a single footfall; the gas flames flicker in the street
lamps; two policemen talk to each other, occasionally stamping their feet
to keep warm.
Thus the night passes. Human footsteps here and there; now and then a
policeman who stamps his feet to keep warm.
V
A barnlike room with blue walls and sliding windows, a sort of drying-loft
with a stove in the middle, and with stovepipes hanging in wires along the
ceiling. The walls are decorated with a number of sketches, painted fans,
and palettes; several framed pictures lean against the wainscoting. Smell
of paints and tobacco smoke; brushes, tubes, overcoats which the guests
had thrown aside; an old rubber shoe filled with nails and junk; on the
easel in the corner a large, half-finished portrait of Paulsberg.
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