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Pagina 60 de 483

Autor: Mary Shelley

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It was indeed but a passing trance, that only made me feel with
renewed acuteness so soon as, the unnatural stimulus ceasing to
operate, I had returned to my old habits. I collected bones from
charnel-houses and disturbed, with profane fingers, the
tremendous secrets of the human frame. In a solitary chamber, or
rather cell, at the top of the house, and separated from all the
other apartments by a gallery and staircase, I kept my workshop
of filthy creation; my eyeballs were starting from their sockets
in attending to the details of my employment. The dissecting room
and the slaughter-house furnished many of my materials; and often
did my human nature turn with loathing from my occupation,
whilst, still urged on by an eagerness which perpetually
increased, I brought my work near to a conclusion.

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