Остров доктора Моро
Montgomery’s “Bank Holiday.”
Asitis—Andbesides,whatwillbecomeofthedecentpartoftheBeastFolk?"
"Well,"saidI,"thatwilldoto-morrow.I’vebeenthinkingwemightmakethatbrushwoodintoapyreandburnhisbody—andthoseotherthings.ThenwhatwillhappenwiththeBeastFolk?"
"Idon’tknow.Isupposethosethatweremadeofbeastsofpreywillmakesillyassesofthemselvessoonerorlater.Wecan’tmassacrethelot—canwe?Isupposethat’swhatyourhumanitywouldsuggest?Butthey’llchange.Theyaresuretochange."
HetalkedthusinconclusivelyuntilatlastIfeltmytempergoing.
"Damnation!"heexclaimedatsomepetulanceofmine;"can’tyouseeI’minaworseholethanyouare?"Andhegotup,andwentforthebrandy."Drink!"hesaidreturning,"youlogic-chopping,chalky-facedsaintofanatheist,drink!"
"NotI,"saidI,andsatgrimlywatchinghisfaceundertheyellowparaffineflare,ashedrankhimselfintoagarrulousmisery.
Ihaveamemoryofinfinitetedium.HewanderedintoamaudlindefenceoftheBeastPeopleandofM’ling.M’ling,hesaid,wastheonlythingthathadeverreallycaredforhim.Andsuddenlyanideacametohim.
"I’mdamned!"saidhe,staggeringtohisfeetandclutchingthebrandybottle.
BysomeflashofintuitionIknewwhatitwasheintended."Youdon’tgivedrinktothatbeast!"Isaid,risingandfacinghim.
