Leonie of the Jungle by Joan Conquest
page 45 of 358 (12%)
page 45 of 358 (12%)
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move--I----"
And then he screamed, though but a whisper fell, as with a spasmodic jump of his whole body he flung himself round in his chair, and cowering low against the arm, peered into the deepening shadows. "All round about me," he whispered, "all about me those hands are pulling, and yet--and--and----" He laughed until his face, a white cameo against a grey velvet pall, grinned like a mask of mirthless death, as slowly he raised one clenched fist and shook it weakly until it fell back with a dull thud, useless, against the chair. "I thought I was afraid--I--I thought I saw--I saw death behind--but I--I shall not die until--until I have written--written--what is it I am to write--ah! yes!" Searching sideways with his left hand he groped and found the pen, then very carefully, very slowly turned towards the desk. He drove the pen in fiercely, making a thick black mark; he pushed it until the nib stuck, spluttered, and broke as he flung out both hands as if grasping at something which evaded him. "Gone!" he mouthed, though there was no sound of speech in the room. "Gone--gone!" and he suddenly tore at his collar and his cuffs as though to break some bond which held him, as he glanced furtively about the room. |
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