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parting from my family and ibis moment. A
year and a half has elapsed, and so many
painful days and nights have been spent for
nothing. But no! it cannot be, it is not
so.
Have I lost myself in a dark wood? The good
spirit has guided me on the right way to the
island of the blessed, but Satan tempts me. I
am punished again. I sink relaxed on my seat,
an unwonted depression weighs upon my spirits.
A magnetic fluid streams from the wall, and
sleep nearly overcomes me. I pull myself
together, and stand up, in order to go out. As I
pass through the passage, I hear two voices
whispering in the room adjoining mine. Why
are they whispering? In order that I may not
overhear them. I go through the Rue d’Assas
to the Jardin du Luxembourg. I drag myself
wearily along, feeling lame from my loins to my
feet, and sink on a seat behind the group of
Adam and his family.
I am poisoned! That is my first thought.
And Popoffsky, who has murdered his wife and
children with poisonous gases, is here. He has
copied the famous experiment of Pettenkofer,
and discharged a stream of gas through the wall.
What shall I do? Go to the police? No! for
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