Острів доктора Моро

At the Schooner’s Rail.

           IfIdon’twell?"

           Hegruntedundecidedly.IfeltIhadhimatadisadvantage,hadcaughthiminthemoodofindiscretion;andtotellthetruthIwasnotcurioustolearnwhatmighthavedrivenayoungmedicalstudentoutofLondon.Ihaveanimagination.Ishruggedmyshouldersandturnedaway.Overthetaffrailleantasilentblackfigure,watchingthestars.ItwasMontgomery’sstrangeattendant.Itlookedoveritsshoulderquicklywithmymovement,thenlookedawayagain.

           Itmayseemalittlethingtoyou,perhaps,butitcamelikeasuddenblowtome.Theonlylightnearuswasalanternatthewheel.Thecreature’sfacewasturnedforonebriefinstantoutofthedimnessofthesterntowardsthisillumination,andIsawthattheeyesthatglancedatmeshonewithapale-greenlight.Ididnotknowthenthatareddishluminosity,atleast,isnotuncommoninhumaneyes.Thethingcametomeasstarkinhumanity.Thatblackfigurewithitseyesoffirestruckdownthroughallmyadultthoughtsandfeelings,andforamomenttheforgottenhorrorsofchildhoodcamebacktomymind.Thentheeffectpassedasithadcome.Anuncouthblackfigureofaman,afigureofnoparticularimport,hungoverthetaffrailagainstthestarlight,andIfoundMontgomerywasspeakingtome.

           "I’mthinkingofturningin,then,"saidhe,"ifyou’vehadenoughofthis."

           Iansweredhimincongruously.Wewentbelow,andhewishedmegood-nightatthedoorofmycabin

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Roboto Lora
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