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Still
,
it
was
delightful
to
walk
here
at
her
side
and
keep
her
in
ignorance
yet
a
while
longer
.
So
I
lied
.
I
answered
:
"
No
,
not
at
all
"
;
and
,
in
order
to
change
the
subject
,
I
asked
,
"
Have
you
seen
the
menagerie
in
the
Tivoli
?
"
"
No
,
"
she
answered
;
"
is
there
really
anything
to
see
?
"
Suppose
she
were
to
take
it
into
her
head
to
wish
to
go
there
?
Into
that
blaze
of
light
,
with
the
crowd
of
people
.
Why
,
she
would
be
filled
with
shame
;
I
would
drive
her
out
again
,
with
my
shabby
clothes
,
and
lean
face
;
perhaps
she
might
even
notice
that
I
had
no
waistcoat
on
...
.
"
Ah
,
no
;
there
is
sure
to
be
nothing
worth
seeing
!
"
And
a
lot
of
happy
ideas
occurred
to
me
,
of
which
I
at
once
made
use
;
a
few
sparse
words
,
fragments
left
in
my
dessicated
brain
.
What
would
one
expect
from
such
a
small
menagerie
?
On
the
whole
,
it
did
not
interest
me
in
the
least
to
see
animals
in
cases
.
These
animals
know
that
one
is
standing
staring
at
them
;
they
feel
hundreds
of
inquisitive
looks
upon
them
;
are
conscious
of
them
.
No
;
I
would
prefer
to
see
animals
that
did
n't
know
one
observed
them
;
shy
creatures
that
nestle
in
their
lair
,
and
lie
with
sluggish
green
eyes
,
and
lick
their
claws
,
and
muse
,
eh
?
Yes
;
I
was
certainly
right
in
that
.
It
was
only
animals
in
all
their
peculiar
fearfulness
and
peculiar
savagery
that
possessed
a
charm
.
The
soundless
,
stealthy
tread
in
the
total
darkness
of
night
;
the
hidden
monsters
of
the
woods
;
the
shrieks
of
a
bird
flying
past
;
the
wind
,
the
smell
of
blood
,
the
rumbling
in
space
;
in
short
,
the
reigning
spirit
of
the
kingdom
of
savage
creatures
hovering
over
savagery
...
the
unconscious
poetry
!
...
But
I
was
afraid
this
bored
her
.
The
consciousness
of
my
great
poverty
seized
me
anew
,
and
crushed
me
.
If
I
had
only
been
in
any
way
well-enough
dressed
to
have
given
her
the
pleasure
of
this
little
tour
in
the
Tivoli
!
I
could
not
make
out
this
creature
,
who
could
find
pleasure
in
letting
herself
be
accompanied
up
the
whole
of
Carl
Johann
Street
by
a
half-naked
beggar
.
What
,
in
the
name
of
God
,
was
she
thinking
of
?
And
why
was
I
walking
there
,
giving
myself
airs
,
and
smiling
idiotically
at
nothing
?
Had
I
any
reasonable
cause
,
either
,
for
letting
myself
be
worried
into
a
long
walk
by
this
dainty
,
silken-clad
bird
?
Mayhap
it
did
not
cost
me
an
effort
?
Did
I
not
feel
the
ice
of
death
go
right
into
my
heart
at
even
the
gentlest
puff
of
wind
that
blew
against
us
?
Was
not
madness
running
riot
in
my
brain
,
just
for
lack
of
food
for
many
months
at
a
stretch
?
Yet
she
hindered
me
from
going
home
to
get
even
a
little
milk
into
my
parched
mouth
;
a
spoonful
of
sweet
milk
,
that
I
might
perhaps
be
able
to
keep
down
.
Why
did
n't
she
turn
her
back
on
me
,
and
let
me
go
to
the
deuce
?
...
I
became
distracted
;
my
despair
reduced
me
to
the
last
extremity
.
I
said
:
