painting in oil
He repeated the exclamation again and again, as if his thoughts had suddenly turned his brain.
He rose and, putting his hand on my shoulder, laughed like one demented as he said:
"Those glasses will drive me silly! Mathematically speaking the thing is possible; but humanly speaking it is impossible - or afterwards - or afterwards -"
Two light knocks struck the door. Rouletabille opened it. A figure entered. I recognised the concierge, whom I had seen when she was being taken to the pavilion for examination. I was surprised, thinking she was still under lock and key. This woman said in a very low tone:
"In the grove of the parquet."
Rouletabille replied: "Thanks." - The woman then left. He again turned to me, his look haggard, after having carefully refastened the door, muttering some incomprehensible phrases.
1 comment:
painting in oil"
Post a Comment