Ужас в музее
Chapter 2
Joneschoked,andstaredatthehideousexhibitwithamountingfascinationwhichperplexedanddisturbedhim. Whathalf-revealedhorrorwasholdingandforcinghimtolooklongerandsearchoutdetails? ThishaddrivenRogersmad...Rogers,supremeartist...saidtheyweren’tartificial....
Thenhelocalisedthethingthatheldhim. Itwasthecrushedwaxenvictim’slollinghead,andsomethingthatitimplied. Thisheadwasnotentirelydevoidofaface,andthatfacewasfamiliar. ItwaslikethemadfaceofpoorRogers. Jonespeeredcloser,hardlyknowingwhyhewasdriventodoso. Wasn’titnaturalforamadegotisttomouldhisownfeaturesintohismasterpiece? Wasthereanythingmorethatsubconsciousvisionhadseizedonandsuppressedinsheerterror?
Thewaxofthemangledfacehadbeenhandledwithboundlessdexterity. Thosepunctures—howperfectlytheyreproducedthemyriadwoundssomehowinflictedonthatpoordog! Buttherewassomethingmore. Ontheleftcheekonecouldtraceanirregularitywhichseemedoutsidethegeneralscheme—asifthesculptorhadsoughttocoverupadefectofhisfirstmodelling. ThemoreJoneslookedatit,themoremysteriouslyithorrifiedhim—andthen,suddenly,herememberedacircumstancewhichbroughthishorrortoahead. Thatnightofhideousness—thetussle—theboundmadman—andthelong,deepscratchdowntheleftcheekoftheactuallivingRogers....
Jones,releasinghisdesperateclutchontherailing,sankinatotalfaint.
Orabonacontinuedtosmile.
