When the Sleeper Wakes by H. G. (Herbert George) Wells
page 16 of 393 (04%)
page 16 of 393 (04%)
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regarding his recumbent figure.
It was a yellow figure lying lax upon a water-bed and clad in a flowing shirt, a figure with a shrunken face and a stubby beard, lean limbs and lank nails, and about it was a case of thin glass. This glass seemed to mark off the sleeper from the reality of life about him, he was a thing apart, a strange, isolated abnormality. The two men stood close to the glass, peering in. "The thing gave me a shock," said Isbister "I feel a queer sort of surprise even now when I think of his white eyes. They were white, you know, rolled up. Coming here again brings it all back to me. "Have you never seen him since that time?" asked Warming. "Often wanted to come," said Isbister; "but business nowadays is too serious a thing for much holiday keeping. I've been in America most of the time." "If I remember rightly," said Warming, "you were an artist?" "Was. And then I became a married man. I saw it was all up with black and white, very soon -- at |
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