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I
spent
a
long
time
in
Market
Street
;
sat
on
steps
,
stole
into
doorways
,
and
when
any
one
approached
,
stood
and
stared
absently
into
the
shops
where
people
bustled
about
with
wares
or
money
.
At
last
I
found
myself
a
sheltered
place
,
behind
a
deal
hoarding
,
between
the
church
and
the
bazaar
.
No
;
I
could
n't
go
out
into
the
woods
again
this
evening
.
Things
must
take
their
course
.
I
had
not
strength
enough
to
go
,
and
it
was
such
an
endless
way
there
.
I
would
kill
the
night
as
best
I
could
,
and
remain
where
I
was
;
if
it
got
all
too
cold
,
well
,
I
could
walk
round
the
church
.
I
would
not
in
any
case
worry
myself
any
more
about
that
,
and
I
leant
back
and
dozed
.
The
noise
around
me
diminished
;
the
shops
closed
.
The
steps
of
the
pedestrians
sounded
more
and
more
rarely
,
and
in
all
the
windows
about
the
lights
went
out
.
I
opened
my
eyes
,
and
became
aware
of
a
figure
standing
in
front
of
me
.
The
flash
of
shining
buttons
told
me
it
was
a
policeman
,
though
I
could
not
see
the
man
's
face
.
"
Good-night
,
"
he
said
.
"
Good-night
,
"
I
answered
and
got
afraid
.
"
Where
do
you
live
?
"
he
queried
.
I
name
,
from
habit
,
and
without
thought
,
my
old
address
,
the
little
attic
.
He
stood
for
a
while
.
"
Have
I
done
anything
wrong
?
"
I
asked
anxiously
.
"
No
,
not
at
all
!
"
he
replied
;
"
but
you
had
perhaps
better
be
getting
home
now
;
it
's
cold
lying
here
.
"
