But that old man, what is he to me? What am I to him? Another individual
of an unhappy class, a shadow of which he has seen so many; another unit
to add to his list of executions.
I have been wrong, perhaps, not to attend to him more; it is he who is
good, while I am the reverse. Alas! it was not my fault. The thought of
my violent death has spoiled and hardened all within me.
They have just brought me food, as if I could possibly wish for it! I
even tried to eat, but the first mouthful fell untasted from my lips.