Острів доктора Моро
“The Locked Door.”
Ahammockwasslungacrossthedarkercorneroftheroom,andasmallunglazedwindowdefendedbyanironbarlookedouttowardsthesea.
Thisthewhite-hairedmantoldmewastobemyapartment;andtheinnerdoor,which"forfearofaccidents,"hesaid,hewouldlockontheotherside,wasmylimitinward.Hecalledmyattentiontoaconvenientdeck-chairbeforethewindow,andtoanarrayofoldbooks,chiefly,Ifound,surgicalworksandeditionsoftheLatinandGreekclassics(languagesIcannotreadwithanycomfort),onashelfnearthehammock.Helefttheroombytheouterdoor,asiftoavoidopeningtheinneroneagain.
"Weusuallyhaveourmealsinhere,"saidMontgomery,andthen,asifindoubt,wentoutaftertheother."Moreau!"Iheardhimcall,andforthemomentIdonotthinkInoticed.ThenasIhandledthebooksontheshelfitcameupinconsciousness:WherehadIheardthenameofMoreaubefore?Isatdownbeforethewindow,tookoutthebiscuitsthatstillremainedtome,andatethemwithanexcellentappetite.Moreau!
ThroughthewindowIsawoneofthoseunaccountablemeninwhite,luggingapacking-casealongthebeach.Presentlythewindow-framehidhim.ThenIheardakeyinsertedandturnedinthelockbehindme.AfteralittlewhileIheardthroughthelockeddoorthenoiseofthestaghounds,thathadnowbeenbroughtupfromthebeach.Theywerenotbarking,butsniffingandgrowlinginacuriousfashion.
