Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VI. Hell
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lay my ear on it, and listen as if bewitched. At
the foot of the post there lies by chance a
horseshoe. I pick it up and carry it away as an
omen of good luck.
August 10th—The behaviour of the doctor
during the last few days has disquieted me more
than ever. By his strange aspect I see that he
has struggled with himself; his face is pale;
his eyes seem dead. During the whole day he
sings or whistles; a letter which he has received
has excited him much.
In the afternoon he comes home with bloody
hands from an operation, and brings a two
months’ old fœtus with him. He looks like a
butcher, and talks in a hateful way: “Let them
kill the weak, and protect the strong! Down
with pity, for it degrades men.” I hear him
with alarm, and secretly watch him, after we
have wished each other good-night on the threshold
which divides our rooms. First of all, he
goes in the garden, but I cannot hear what he
does. Then he steps into the verandah adjoining
my sleeping-room and stops there. He busies himself
with some fairly heavy object, and winds up a
piece of clock-work which, however, belongs to no
clock. Half-undressed, I await, standing motionless,
the result of these mysterious preparations.
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