A kind of twilight was thus created, sufficient for the purposes of vision; but, at the same time, involving all minuter objects in obscurity.
This darkness suited the colour of my thoughts.

I sickened at the remembrance of the past.

The prospect of the future excited my loathing.
I muttered in a low voice, Why should I live longer?
Why should I drag a miserable being?
All, for whom I ought to live, have perished.

Am I not myself hunted to death?
At that moment, my despair suddenly became vigorous.

My nerves were no longer unstrung.