Дракула

Jonathan Harker’s Journal Continued

           Whenshesawmyfaceatthewindowshethrewherselfforward,andshoutedinavoiceladenwithmenace, "Monster,givememychild!" 

           Shethrewherselfonherknees,andraisingupherhands,criedthesamewordsintoneswhichwrungmyheart. Thenshetoreherhairandbeatherbreast,andabandonedherselftoalltheviolencesofextravagantemotion. Finally,shethrewherselfforward,andthoughIcouldnotseeher,Icouldhearthebeatingofhernakedhandsagainstthedoor. 

           Somewherehighoverhead,probablyonthetower,IheardthevoiceoftheCountcallinginhisharsh,metallicwhisper. Hiscallseemedtobeansweredfromfarandwidebythehowlingofwolves. Beforemanyminuteshadpassedapackofthempoured,likeapent-updamwhenliberated,throughthewideentranceintothecourtyard. 

           Therewasnocryfromthewoman,andthehowlingofthewolveswasbutshort. Beforelongtheystreamedawaysingly,lickingtheirlips. 

           Icouldnotpityher,forIknewnowwhathadbecomeofherchild,andshewasbetterdead. 

           WhatshallIdo? WhatcanIdo? HowcanIescapefromthisdreadfulthingofnight,gloom,andfear? 

           25June. Nomanknowstillhehassufferedfromthenighthowsweetanddeartohisheartandeyethemorningcanbe. Whenthesungrewsohighthismorningthatitstruckthetopofthegreatgatewayoppositemywindow,thehighspotwhichittouchedseemedtomeasifthedovefromthearkhadlightedthere. Myfearfellfrommeasifithadbeenavaporousgarmentwhichdissolvedinthewarmth. 

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