Even his depression had passed, there was not a trace now of the energy with which he had set out "to make an end of it all." Complete apathy had succeeded to it.
"Well, it's a way out of it," he thought, walking slowly and listlessly along the canal bank.

"Anyway I'll make an end, for I want to....

But is it a way out?
What does it matter! There'll be the square yard of space--ha! But what an end! Is it really the end?
Shall I tell them or not?
Ah...

damn! How tired I am! If I could find somewhere to sit or lie down soon! What I am most ashamed of is its being so stupid.

But I don't care about that either! What idiotic ideas come into one's head." To reach the police office he had to go straight forward and take the second turning to the left.