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168 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
It would have been impossible to improve the arrange-
ments made; the great thing was to publish the first
number at the time advertised. Everything was ready,
but at the last moment we lacked the necessary funds and
credit.
Alas ! I had put my fate into the hands of a woman !
On the day of the publication she remained calmly in bed
and slept till broad daylight.
Convinced that everything was well, I went to town,
but everywhere on my way I was greeted with sarcastic
smiles.
"Well, where is the Avonderful paper to be had? " I
was asked the question dozens of times by the numerous
people interested in its appearance.
" Everywhere !
"
" Or nowhere !
"
I went into a newspaper shop.
" We haven’t received it yet,’* said the assistant behind
the counter.
I rushed to the printing-office. It had not left the
press yet.
A complete failure ! We had an angry scene. Her
inborn carelessness and ignorance of the publishing trade
exonerated her to some extent. She had completely relied
on her friend, the theatrical manager.
The two hundred crowns were gone. My time, my
honour, the eager thought I had devoted to the scheme,
all were wasted.
In this general shipwreck one haunting thought re-
mained : our condition was hopeless.
I proposed that we should die together. What was to
become of us ? She was quite broken down and I had
not the strength to lift her up a second time.
" Let us die," I said to her. " Don’t let us degenerate
into walking corpses and obstruct the path of the living."
She refused,
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