Луна и грош

Chapter XXXIV

           "Whatonearthareyoutalkingabout?"

           Hemadedespairinggestureswithhishands,butstillnowordscamefromhismouth.Hemighthavebeenstruckdumb.Idonotknowwhatcameoverme;Itookhimbytheshouldersandshookhim.Lookingback,IamvexedthatImadesuchafoolofmyself;IsupposethelastrestlessnightshadshakenmynervesmorethanIknew.

           "Letmesitdown,"hegaspedatlength.

           IfilledaglasswithSt.Galmier,andgaveittohimtodrink.Iheldittohismouthasthoughhewereachild.Hegulpeddownamouthful,andsomeofitwasspiltonhisshirt-front.

           "Who’skilledherself?"

           IdonotknowwhyIasked,forIknewwhomhemeant.Hemadeanefforttocollecthimself.

           "Theyhadarowlastnight.Hewentaway."

           "Isshedead?"

           "No;they’vetakenhertothehospital."

           "Thenwhatareyoutalkingabout?"Icriedimpatiently."Whydidyousayshe’dkilledherself?"

           "Don’tbecrosswithme.Ican’ttellyouanythingifyoutalktomelikethat."

           Iclenchedmyhands,seekingtocontrolmyirritation.Iattemptedasmile.

           "I’msorry.Takeyourtime.Don’thurry,there’sagoodfellow."

           Hisroundblueeyesbehindthespectacleswereghastlywithterror.Themagnifying-glassesheworedistortedthem.

           "Whentheconciergewentupthismorningtotakealettershecouldgetnoanswertoherring.Sheheardsomeonegroaning.Thedoorwasn’tlocked,andshewentin.Blanchewaslyingonthebed.She’dbeenfrightfullysick.Therewasabottleofoxalicacidonthetable."

           Stroevehidhisfaceinhishandsandswayedbackwardsandforwards,groaning.

           "Wassheconscious?"

           "Yes.

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