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Chapter 1

           

           Whenhereachedtheturningintothestreet,inanagonyoftrepidationhelookeddownit...atthehouse...andatonceavertedhiseyes.

           “Iftheyquestionme,perhapsI’llsimplytell,”hethought,ashedrewnearthepolice-station.

           Thepolice-stationwasaboutaquarterofamileoff.Ithadlatelybeenmovedtonewroomsonthefourthfloorofanewhouse.Hehadbeenonceforamomentintheoldofficebutlongago.Turninginatthegateway,hesawontherightaflightofstairswhichapeasantwasmountingwithabookinhishand.“Ahouse-porter,nodoubt;sothen,theofficeishere,”andhebeganascendingthestairsonthechance.Hedidnotwanttoaskquestionsofanyone.

           “I’llgoin,fallonmyknees,andconfesseverything...”hethought,ashereachedthefourthfloor.

           Thestaircasewassteep,narrowandallsloppywithdirtywater.Thekitchensoftheflatsopenedontothestairsandstoodopenalmostthewholeday.Sotherewasafearfulsmellandheat.Thestaircasewascrowdedwithportersgoingupanddownwiththeirbooksundertheirarms,policemen,andpersonsofallsortsandbothsexes.Thedooroftheoffice,too,stoodwideopen.Peasantsstoodwaitingwithin.There,too,theheatwasstiflingandtherewasasickeningsmelloffreshpaintandstaleoilfromthenewlydecoratedrooms.

           Afterwaitingalittle,hedecidedtomoveforwardintothenextroom.Alltheroomsweresmallandlow-pitched.Afearfulimpatiencedrewhimonandon.Noonepaidattentiontohim.

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