Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 1

           Oncepasther,andshutinmyownroom,Iflungmyuselessmanuscriptonthefloorandmyselfintoachair,andswore.Itrefreshedmetoswear,anditseemednaturalforthoughtemporarilyweakenedbylackoffood,IwasnotyetsoweakastoshedtearsandafierceformidableoathwastomethesamesortofphysicalreliefwhichIimagineafitofweepingmaybetoanexcitablewoman.JustasIcouldnotshedtears,sowasIincapableofapostrophizingGodinmydespair.Tospeakfrankly,IdidnotbelieveinanyGodthen.Iwastomyselfanall-sufficingmortal,scorningthetime-wornsuperstitionsofso-calledreligion.OfcourseIhadbeenbroughtupintheChristianfaith;butthatcreedhadbecomeworsethanuselesstomesinceIhadintellectuallyrealizedtheutterinefficiencyofChristianministerstodealwithdifficultlife-problems.SpirituallyIwasadriftinchaosmentallyIwashinderedbothinthoughtandachievementbodily,Iwasreducedtowant.MycasewasdesperateImyselfwasdesperate.Itwasamomentwhenifevergoodandevilangelsplayagameofchanceforaman’ssoul,theyweresurelythrowingthediceonthelastwagerformine.Andyet,withitall,IfeltIhaddonemybest.Iwasdrivenintoacornerbymyfellow-menwhogrudgedmespacetolivein,butIhadfoughtagainstit.Ihadworkedhonestlyandpatiently;alltonopurpose.Iknewofrogueswhogainedplentyofmoney;andofknaveswhowereamassinglargefortunes.Theirprosperityappearedtoprovethathonestyafterallwasnotthebestpolicy.

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