Книга · Frankenstein
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Автор: Mary Shelley
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Great God! Why did I not then expire! Why am I here to relate the
destruction of the best hope and the purest creature on earth?
She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, her
head hanging down and her pale and distorted features half
covered by her hair. Everywhere I turn I see the same figure-her
bloodless arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer on its
bridal bier. Could I behold this and live? Alas! Life is
obstinate and clings closest where it is most hated. For a moment
only did I lose recollection; I fell senseless on the ground.
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