Some weakness of my own character may
have contributed to the result, but in a greater degree it was due
to my having a reputation for bad luck. However, I will not try to
analyze the causes of my state, for I should satisfy nobody, least
of all myself. Still less will I attempt to explain why I felt a
temporary revival of my spirits after my adventure in the garden.
It is certain that I was in love with the face I had seen, and that
I longed to see it again; that I gave up all hope of a second
visitation, grew more sad than ever, packed up my traps, and
finally went abroad. But in my dreams I went back to my home, and
it always appeared to me sunny and bright, as it had looked on that
summer's morning after I had seen the woman by the fountain.
I went to Paris. I went farther, and wandered about Germany. I
tried to amuse myself, and I failed miserably. With the aimless
whims of an idle and useless man come all sorts of suggestions for
good resolutions. One day I made up my mind that I would go and
bury myself in a German university for a time, and live simply like
a poor student.
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