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Now
I
stand
and
look
at
these
pieces
of
money
for
a
second
.
I
am
conscious
something
is
wrong
somewhere
.
I
do
not
reflect
;
do
not
think
about
anything
at
all
--
I
am
simply
struck
of
a
heap
by
all
this
wealth
which
is
lying
glittering
before
my
eyes
--
and
I
gather
up
the
money
mechanically
.
I
stand
outside
the
counter
,
stupid
with
amazement
,
dumb
,
paralyzed
.
I
take
a
stride
towards
the
door
,
and
stop
again
.
I
turn
my
eyes
upon
a
certain
spot
in
the
wall
,
where
a
little
bell
is
suspended
to
a
leather
collar
,
and
underneath
this
a
bundle
of
string
,
and
I
stand
and
stare
at
these
things
.
The
shop-boy
is
struck
by
the
idea
that
I
want
to
have
a
chat
as
I
take
my
time
so
leisurely
,
and
says
,
as
he
tidies
a
lot
of
wrapping-papers
strewn
over
the
counter
:
"
It
looks
as
if
we
were
going
to
have
winter
snow
!
"
"
Humph
!
Yes
,
"
I
reply
;
"
it
looks
as
if
we
were
going
to
have
winter
in
earnest
now
;
it
looks
like
it
,
"
and
a
while
after
,
I
add
:
"
Ah
,
well
,
it
is
none
too
soon
.
"
I
could
hear
myself
speak
,
but
each
word
I
uttered
struck
my
ear
as
if
it
were
coming
from
another
person
.
I
spoke
absolutely
unwittingly
,
involuntarily
,
without
being
conscious
of
myself
.
"
Oh
,
do
you
think
so
?
"
says
the
boy
.
I
thrust
the
hand
with
the
money
into
my
pocket
,
turned
the
door-handle
,
and
left
.
I
could
hear
that
I
said
good-night
,
and
that
the
shop-boy
replied
to
me
.
I
had
gone
a
few
paces
away
from
the
shop
when
the
shop-door
was
torn
open
,
and
the
boy
called
after
me
.
