The Man of The Crowd Part 2
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With my brow to the glass, when suddenly there came into my view a old man around the age sixty-five or seventy. The ideas within my mind of vast mental power, of caution, of coolness, of blood-thirstiness, of triumph, of excessive terror, of intense.
I made my way into the street, and pushed through the crowd in the direction which i had seen him take. For he had already disappeared. With some difficulty i at length came within sight of him, approached, and followed him closely, yet cautiously, so as not to attract his attention.
It was now fully night-fall, and heavy rain started to fall. For a half an hour the old man held his way with difficulty along the great thoroughfare and i walked close at his elbow through fear of losing sight of him.
"This old man." I said at length. "Is the type and the genius of deep crime. He refuses to be alone. He is the man of The Crowd."
In this exercise he spent another hour, at the end of which we met with far less interruption from passengers that at first. The rain fell fast and the air grew cold.
During the hour and a half, it required much caution on my part to keep him within reach without attracting his observation. He entered shop after shop, priced nothing, spoke no word, and looked at all objects with wild and vacant stare. I was now utterly amazed at his behavior, and firmly resolved that we should not part until I has satisfied my self in some measure of respecting him.
It is now nearly day break, we have arrived back to the street of the D_Hotel. I grew wearied unto death, and , stopping fully in from of the wanderer, gazed at him steadfastly in the face, he noticed me not.
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