Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - V. Purgatory
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
in bed, I hear him lie down on the bed by my
wall. I hear him stretch himself out parallel
with me; he turns over the pages of a book, then
puts out the lamp, breathes loud, turns himself
on his side, and goes to sleep. He apparently
occupies the rooms on both sides of me, and it
is unpleasant to be beset on two sides at once.
Absolutely alone, I take my mid-day meal in my
room, and I eat so little that the waiter pities
me. For eight days I have not heard the sound
of my own voice, which begins to grow feeble
for want of exercise. I have n’t a sou left, and
my tobacco and postage stamps run out. Then
I rally my will power for a last attempt: I
will make gold, by the dry process. I manage
to borrow some money and procure the necessary
apparatus: an oven, smelting-saucepans,
wood-coals, bellows, and tongs. The heat is
terrific and, like a workman in a smithy, I sweat
before the open fire, stripped to the waist. But
sparrows have built their nests in the chimney,
and smoke pours out of it into the room. I feel
like going mad over this first attempt, my
headaches, and the frustration of my efforts; for
everything goes wrong. I have smelted the mass
of metal in the fire and look inside the saucepan.
The borax has formed within it a death’s-head
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
