Острів доктора Моро
“The Locked Door.”
Icouldheartherapidpatteroftheirfeet,andMontgomery’svoicesoothingthem.
Iwasverymuchimpressedbytheelaboratesecrecyofthesetwomenregardingthecontentsoftheplace,andforsometimeIwasthinkingofthatandoftheunaccountablefamiliarityofthenameofMoreau;butsooddisthehumanmemorythatIcouldnotthenrecallthatwell-knownnameinitsproperconnection.Fromthatmythoughtswenttotheindefinablequeernessofthedeformedmanonthebeach.Ineversawsuchagait,suchoddmotionsashepulledatthebox.Irecalledthatnoneofthesemenhadspokentome,thoughmostofthemIhadfoundlookingatmeatonetimeoranotherinapeculiarlyfurtivemanner,quiteunlikethefrankstareofyourunsophisticatedsavage.Indeed,theyhadallseemedremarkablytaciturn,andwhentheydidspeak,endowedwithveryuncannyvoices.Whatwaswrongwiththem?ThenIrecalledtheeyesofMontgomery’sungainlyattendant.
JustasIwasthinkingofhimhecamein.Hewasnowdressedinwhite,andcarriedalittletraywithsomecoffeeandboiledvegetablesthereon.Icouldhardlyrepressashudderingrecoilashecame,bendingamiably,andplacedthetraybeforemeonthetable.Thenastonishmentparalysedme.UnderhisstringyblacklocksIsawhisear;itjumpeduponmesuddenlyclosetomyface.Themanhadpointedears,coveredwithafinebrownfur!
"Yourbreakfast,sair,"hesaid.
Istaredathisfacewithoutattemptingtoanswerhim.
