I notice the jerking movement my foot
makes each time my pulse beats. I half rise and look down at my feet,
and I experience at this moment a fantastic and singular feeling that I
have never felt before--a delicate, wonderful shock through my nerves,
as if sparks of cold light quivered through them--it was as if catching
sight of my shoes I had met with a kind old acquaintance, or got back a
part of myself that had been riven loose. A feeling of recognition
trembles through my senses; the tears well up in my eyes, and I have a
feeling as if my shoes are a soft, murmuring strain rising towards me.
"Weakness!" I cried harshly to myself, and I clenched my fists and I
repeated "Weakness!" I laughed at myself, for this ridiculous feeling,
made fun of myself, with a perfect consciousness of doing so, talked
very severely and sensibly, and closed my eyes very tightly to get rid
of the tears.

As if I had never seen my shoes before, I set myself to study their
looks, their characteristics, and, when I stir my foot, their shape and
their worn uppers. I discover that their creases and white seams give
them expression--impart a physiognomy to them. Something of my own
nature had gone over into these shoes; they affected me, like a ghost
of my other I--a breathing portion of my very self.

I sat and toyed with these fancies a long time, perhaps an entire hour.
A little, old man came and took the other end of the seat; as he seated
himself he panted after his walk, and muttered:

"Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay; very true!"

As soon as I heard his voice, I felt as if a wind had swept through my
head. I let shoes be shoes, and it seemed to me that the distracted
phase of mind I had just experienced dated from a long-vanished period,
maybe a year or two back, and was about to be quietly effaced from my
memory. I began to observe the old fellow.

Did this little man concern me in any way? Not in the least, not in the
very slightest degree! Only that he held a newspaper in his hand, an
old number (with the advertisement sheet on the outside), in which
something or other seemed to be rolled up; my curiosity was aroused,
and I could not take my eyes away from this paper. The insane idea
entered my head that it might be a quite peculiar newspaper--unique of
its kind. My curiosity increased, and I began to move backwards and
forwards on the seat. It might contain deeds, dangerous documents
stolen from some archive or other; so