The half-darkened cafe was soon empty; only some of Alphonse's
nearest friends stood in a group and whispered. The doctor was
talking with the proprietor, who had now appeared on the scene.
The waiters stole to and fro, making great circuits to avoid the
dark corner. One of them knelt and gathered up the fragments of
the glass on a tray. He did his work as quietly as he could; but
for all that it made too much noise.
"Let that alone until by and by," said the host, softly.
Leaning against the chimney-piece, Charles looked at the dead man.
He slowly tore the folded paper to pieces, while he thought of his
friend.
HOPES
BY
FREDERIKA BREMER
The Translation by Mary Howitt.
HOPES
BY
FREDERIKA BREMER
I had a peculiar method of wandering without very much pain along
the stormy path of life. Although, in a physical as well as in a
moral sense, I wandered almost barefoot,-I HOPED, hoped from day
to day; in the morning my hopes rested on evening, in the evening
on the morning; in the autumn; upon the spring, in spring upon the
autumn; from this year to the next, and this amid mere hopes, I
had passed through nearly thirty years of my life, without, of all
my privations, painfully perceiving the want of anything but whole
boots. Nevertheless, I consoled myself easily for this out of
doors in the open air but in a drawing-room it always gave me an
uneasy manner to have to turn the heels, as being the part least
torn, to the front.
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