and looked upon him as responsible for the moral impoverishment of my life, to which I resigned myself as to a sort of nasty disease.
In the beginning I was neither liked nor respected in our school boarding house.
First they ragged me, then kept out of my way, looking upon me as a rotter and an eccentric character; I was pleased with myself
and I even overplayed my part, withdrawing into my solitary self, growling occasional cynicisms.
Superficially I appeared to despise the world in most manly fashion, whereas in reality I was secretly consumed by melancholy and despair.
In school I could fall back on a knowledge amassed at home.
The form I was in was not so advanced as the same form in the school I had just left,
and so I acquired the habit of despising my school contemporaries, regarding them as mere children.
This attitude lasted a year and longer. My first holiday visits at home brought no change, I went gladly away again.
It was in the beginning of November. I had formed the habit of taking short, meditative walks in all kinds of weather,
during which I often experienced a sort of joy, a joy full of melancholy, contempt of the world and contempt of self.
I was sauntering thus one evening through the damp, foggy twilight in a suburb of the town.
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