Apr212010
08:11:08 pm
08:11:08 pm
Fears the thought of being burdened with the...
Fears the thought of being burdened with the "soul" of anything
Has no dread of wanting "life" in the future
Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads
being haunted by their souls
Logically all these things point one way! He has assurance of
some kind that he will acquire some higher life
He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soulThen it is a
human life he looks to!
And the assurance??
Merciful God! The Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme of terror afoot!
Later-I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my suspicionHe grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over for a while asked me to take him to RenfieldAs we came to the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the time which now seems so long ago
When we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his sugar as of oldThe flies, lethargic with the autumn, were beginning to buzz into the roomWe tried to make him talk of the subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attendHe went on with his singing, just as though we had not been presentHe had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebookWe had to come away as ignorant as we went in
His is a curious case indeedWe must watch him tonight
LETTER, MITCHELL, SONS
Fears the thought of being burdened with the "soul" of anything
Has no dread of wanting "life" in the future
Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads
being haunted by their souls
Logically all these things point one way! He has assurance of
some kind that he will acquire some higher life
He dreads the consequence, the burden of a soulThen it is a
human life he looks to!
And the assurance??
Merciful God! The Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme of terror afoot!
Later-I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my suspicionHe grew very grave, and after thinking the matter over for a while asked me to take him to RenfieldAs we came to the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the time which now seems so long ago
When we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his sugar as of oldThe flies, lethargic with the autumn, were beginning to buzz into the roomWe tried to make him talk of the subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attendHe went on with his singing, just as though we had not been presentHe had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a notebookWe had to come away as ignorant as we went in
His is a curious case indeedWe must watch him tonight
LETTER, MITCHELL, SONS
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