Голод
Part III
Isatandmoistenedmylipsalittle,butotherwisemadenoefforttodoanything;mychestwasinapitifulstate.Theduskclosedin;Isankmoreandmoretogether,grewweary,andlaydownonthebedagain.InordertowarmmyfingersalittleIstrokedthemthroughmyhairbackwardsandforwardsandcrosswise.Smallloosetuftscameaway,flakesthatgotbetweenmyfingers,andscatteredoverthepillow.Ididnotthinkanythingaboutitjustthen;itwasasifitdidnotconcernme.Ihadhairenoughleft,anyway.Itriedafreshtoshakemyselfoutofthisstrangedazethatenvelopedmywholebeinglikeamist.Isatup,struckmykneeswithmyflathands,laughedashardasmysorechestpermittedme—onlytocollapseagain.Naughtavailed;Iwasdyinghelplessly,withmyeyeswideopen—staringstraightupattheroof.AtlengthIstuckmyforefingerinmymouth,andtooktosuckingit.Somethingstirredinmybrain,athoughtthatboreditswayinthere—astark-madnotion.
SupposingIweretotakeabite?Andwithoutamoment’sreflection,Ishutmyeyes,andclenchedmyteethonit.
Isprangup.AtlastIwasthoroughlyawake.Alittlebloodtrickledfromit,andIlickeditasitcame.Itdidn’thurtverymuch,neitherwasthewoundlarge,butIwasbroughtatoneboundtomysenses.Ishookmyhead,wenttothewindow,whereIfoundarag,andwounditroundthesoreplace.AsIstoodandbusiedmyselfwiththis,myeyesfilledwithtears;Icriedsoftlytomyself.
