Отравленный пояс

Chapter III. Submerged

           Ifthesemenofsciencecouldbesotruetotheirlife’sworktotheveryend,whyshouldnotI,inmyhumbleway,beasconstant?NohumaneyemighteverrestuponwhatIhaddone.Butthelongnighthadtobepassedsomehow,andformeatleast,sleepseemedtobeoutofthequestion.Mynoteswouldhelptopassthewearyhoursandtooccupymythoughts.ThusitisthatnowIhavebeforemethenotebookwithitsscribbledpages,writtenconfusedlyuponmykneeinthedim,waninglightofouroneelectrictorch.HadItheliterarytouch,theymighthavebeenworthyoftheoccasion.Asitis,theymaystillservetobringtoothermindsthelong-drawnemotionsandtremorsofthatawfulnight.

           

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