I had, as I have told you, thought of death very often in my life but I had never thought of it like this.

I did not now think of death very clearly but only of the uselessness of trying to bear up against anything when that was all one came to in the end.

I felt my very bones crumble and my flesh decay on my body, as I stood there.

I felt as though I had really been caught at last after a silly aimless flight and that even if I had the strength or cleverness to escape I had not the desire to try.

I had been mocked with a week's happiness only to have it taken from me for my enemy's ironic enjoyment.