Отруєний пояс
Chapter II. The Tide Of Death
Theworn-outbodilymachinecan’trecorditsimpression,butweknowthementalpleasurewhichliesinadreamoratrance.Naturemaybuildabeautifuldoorandhangitwithmanyagauzyandshimmeringcurtaintomakeanentrancetothenewlifeforourwonderingsouls.Inallmyprobingsoftheactual,Ihavealwaysfoundwisdomandkindnessatthecore;andifeverthefrightenedmortalneedstenderness,itissurelyashemakesthepassageperilousfromlifetolife.No,Summerlee,Iwillhavenoneofyourmaterialism,forI,atleast,amtoogreatathingtoendinmerephysicalconstituents,apacketofsaltsandthreebucketfulsofwater.Here—here"—andhebeathisgreatheadwithhishuge,hairyfist—"thereissomethingwhichusesmatter,butisnotofit—somethingwhichmightdestroydeath,butwhichdeathcanneverdestroy."
"Talkin’ofdeath,"saidLordJohn."I’maChristianofsorts,butitseemstometherewassomethin’mightynaturalinthoseancestorsofourswhowereburiedwiththeiraxesandbowsandarrowsandthelike,sameasiftheywerelivin’onjustthesameastheyusedto.Idon’tknow,"headded,lookingroundthetableinashamefacedway,"thatIwouldn’tfeelmorehomelymyselfifIwasputawaywithmyold.450Expressandthefowlin’-piece,theshorteronewiththerubberedstock,andacliportwoofcartridges—justafool’sfancy,ofcourse,butthereitis.Howdoesitstrikeyou,HerrProfessor?"
"Well,"saidSummerlee,"sinceyouaskmyopinion,itstrikesmeasanindefensiblethrowbacktotheStoneAgeorbeforeit.
