Остров доктора Моро
Doctor Moreau Explains.
Ihaveworkedhardatherheadandbrain—"Andnow,"saidhe,standingupafteralonggapofsilence,duringwhichwehadeachpursuedourownthoughts,"whatdoyouthink?Areyouinfearofmestill?"
Ilookedathim,andsawbutawhite-faced,white-hairedman,withcalmeyes.Saveforhisserenity,thetouchalmostofbeautythatresultedfromhissettranquillityandhismagnificentbuild,hemighthavepassedmusteramongahundredothercomfortableoldgentlemen.ThenIshivered.Bywayofanswertohissecondquestion,Ihandedhimarevolverwitheitherhand.
"Keepthem,"hesaid,andsnatchedatayawn.Hestoodup,staredatmeforamoment,andsmiled."Youhavehadtwoeventfuldays,"saidhe."Ishouldadvisesomesleep.I’mgladit’sallclear.Good-night."Hethoughtmeoverforamoment,thenwentoutbytheinnerdoor.
Iimmediatelyturnedthekeyintheouterone.Isatdownagain;satforatimeinakindofstagnantmood,soweary,emotionally,mentally,andphysically,thatIcouldnotthinkbeyondthepointatwhichhehadleftme.Theblackwindowstaredatmelikeaneye.AtlastwithaneffortIputoutthelightandgotintothehammock.VerysoonIwasasleep.
