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"Very well then!" he said resolutely; he moved from the bridge

and walked in the direction of the police office. His heart felt

hollow and empty. He did not want to think. Even his depression

had passed, there was not a trace now of the energy with which he

had set out "to make an end of it all." Complete apathy had

succeeded to it.

"Well, it's a way out of it," he thought, walking slowly and

listlessly along the canal bank. "Anyway, I'll make an end, for I

want to.... But is it a way out? What does it matter! There'll be

the square yard of space--ha! But what an end! Is it really the

end? Shall I tell them or not? Ah... damn! How tired I am! If I

could find somewhere to sit or lie down soon! What I am most

ashamed of is its being so stupid. But I don't care about that

either! What idiotic ideas come into one's head."