Остров доктора Моро

           Heturnedandwenttowardsthedoor,regardingmeoddlyoverhisshoulder.Ifollowedhimoutwithmyeyes;andasIdidso,bysomeoddtrickofunconsciouscerebration,therecamesurgingintomyheadthephrase,"TheMoreauHollows"—wasit?"TheMoreau—"Ah!Itsentmymemorybacktenyears."TheMoreauHorrors!"Thephrasedriftedlooseinmymindforamoment,andthenIsawitinredletteringonalittlebuff-colouredpamphlet,toreadwhichmadeoneshiverandcreep.ThenIremembereddistinctlyallaboutit.Thatlong-forgottenpamphletcamebackwithstartlingvividnesstomymind.Ihadbeenamereladthen,andMoreauwas,Isuppose,aboutfifty,—aprominentandmasterfulphysiologist,well-knowninscientificcirclesforhisextraordinaryimaginationandhisbrutaldirectnessindiscussion.

           WasthisthesameMoreau?Hehadpublishedsomeveryastonishingfactsinconnectionwiththetransfusionofblood,andinadditionwasknowntobedoingvaluableworkonmorbidgrowths.Thensuddenlyhiscareerwasclosed.HehadtoleaveEngland.Ajournalistobtainedaccesstohislaboratoryinthecapacityoflaboratory-assistant,withthedeliberateintentionofmakingsensationalexposures;andbythehelpofashockingaccident(ifitwasanaccident),hisgruesomepamphletbecamenotorious.Onthedayofitspublicationawretcheddog,flayedandotherwisemutilated,escapedfromMoreau’shouse.