inflamed; it smarted most
strangely and sorely--nor would chewing shavings help me much longer.
My jaws were tired of that barren work, and I let them rest. I simply
gave up. A brown orange-peel, too, I had found in the street, and which
I had at once commenced to chew, had given me nausea. I was ill--the
veins swelled up bluely on my wrists. What was it I had really sought
after? Run about the whole live-long day for a shilling, that would but
keep life in me for a few hours longer. Considering all, was it not a
matter of indifference if the inevitable took place one day earlier or
one day later? If I had conducted myself like an ordinary being I
should have gone home long ago, and laid myself down to rest, and given
in. My mind was clear for a moment. Now I was to die. It was in the
time of the fall, and all things were hushed to sleep. I had tried
every means, exhausted every resource of which I knew. I fondled this
thought sentimentally, and each time I still hoped for a possible
succour I whispered repudiatingly: "You fool, you have already begun to
die."

I ought to write a couple of letters, make all ready--prepare myself. I
would wash myself carefully and tidy my bed nicely. I would lay my head
upon the sheets of white paper, the cleanest things I had left, and the
green blanket. I ... The green blanket! Like a shot I was wide awake.
The blood mounted to my head, and I got violent palpitation of the
heart. I arise from the seat, and start to walk. Life stirs again in
all my fibres, and time after time I repeat disconnectedly, "The green
blanket--the green blanket." I go faster and faster, as if it is a case
of fetching something, and stand after a little time in my tinker's
workshop. Without pausing a moment, or wavering in my resolution, I go
over to the bed, and roll up Hans Pauli's blanket. It was a strange
thing if this bright idea of mine couldn't save me. I rose infinitely
superior to the stupid scruples which sprang up in me--half inward
cries about a certain stain on my honour. I bade good-bye to the whole
of them. I was no hero--no virtuous idiot. I had my senses left.

So I took the blanket under my arm and went to No. 5 Stener's Street. I
knocked, and entered the big, strange room for the first time. The bell
on the door above my head gave a lot of violent jerks. A man enters
from a side room, chewing, his mouth is full of food, and stands behind
the counter.

"Eh, lend me sixpence on my eye-glass