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and activity scarcely inferior to what I had seen on the evening before.
And here, long, amid the momently increasing confusion, did I persist
in my pursuit of the stranger. But, as usual, he walked to and fro, and
during the day did not pass from out the turmoil of that street. And,
as the shades of the second evening came on, I grew wearied unto death,
and, stopping fully in front of the wanderer, gazed at him steadfastly
in the face. He noticed me not, but resumed his solemn walk, while I,
ceasing to follow, remained absorbed in contemplation. "This old man," I
said at length, "is the type and the genius of deep crime. He refuses to
be alone. [page 228:] He is the man of the crowd. It will be in vain to
follow; for I shall learn no more of him, nor of his deeds. The worst
heart of the world is a grosser book than the 'Hortulus Animæ,' {*1} and
perhaps it is but one of the great mercies of God that 'er lasst sich
nicht lesen.'"
{*1} The "Hortulus Animæ cum Oratiunculis Aliquibus Superadditis" of
Grünninger
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