For weeks I was in a miserable condition. A separate
consciousness seemed to establish itself in this foot; there was nothing
to be seen and no pain, but there was a dull sort of pressure of which I
could not rid myself. If I slept I dreamed of the dog, and generally
dreamed I was caressing him, waking up to the dreadful truth of the
corpse on the path in the rain. I got it into my head--for I was half-
crazy--that only by some expiation I should be restored to health and
peace; but how to make any expiation I could not tell. Unhappy is the
wretch who longs to atone for a sin and no atonement is prescribed to
him!
One night I was coming home late and heard the cry of "Fire!" I ran
down the street and found a house in flames. The fire-escape was at the
window, and had rescued a man, his wife and child. Every living
creature was safe, I was told, save a dog in the front room on the
ground-floor. I pushed the people aside, rushed in, half-blinded with
smoke, and found him. I could not escape by the passage, and dropped
out of the window into the area with him in my arms.
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