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sleep. I surely slept two hours. I remember having dreamed that I was on
good terms with her, that after a quarrel we were in the act of making
up, that something prevented us, but that we were friends all the same.
"A knock at the door awoke me.
"
'It is the police,' thought I, as I opened my eyes. 'I have killed, I
believe. But perhaps it is SHE; perhaps nothing has happened.'
"Another knock. I did not answer. I was solving the question: 'Has it
happened or not? Yes, it has happened.'
"I remembered the resistance of the corset, and then. . . . 'Yes, it has
happened. Yes, it has happened. Yes, now I must execute myself,' said I
to myself.
"I said it, but I knew well that I should not kill myself. Nevertheless,
I rose and took the revolver, but, strange thing, I remembered that
formerly I had very often had suicidal ideas, that that very night, on
the cars, it had seemed to me easy, especially easy because I thought
how it would stupefy her. Now I not only could not kill myself, but I
could not even think of it.
"
'Why do it?' I asked myself, without answering.
Another knock at the door.
"
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