On my right a shop!
At my side an old old man, the picture of poverty, near-sighted, ragged, bent, with long white hair and a long white beard. I stopped, and he stopped too.
Ah yes! I understand! This old man beside me is I—myself, reflected in a mirror of the shop!...
Farther along, the crossing of two streets.
Aha! A house that looks familiar. My house—the house where I used to live!
So that was the goal toward which I had been going all along unconsciously! My legs seemed suddenly paralyzed, I could go no farther. I leaned against a wall there where I was; and I gazed, and gazed, with all my eyes....
XXXVII
With all my eyes, I say....