Lerne sniggered, as he flipped Emma’s cheeks with a wet towel.
I felt myself going mad. Who knows if Macbeth’s reason had not gone in a moment like this! Macbeth! Klotz!
The hallucination made me feel a sharp pain, which pierced my skull from temple to temple.
The assistants took me downstairs, Johann at my head—Wilhelm at my feet.
Were they simply going to put me away in a locked room!
A nephew, damn it all, is not to be slaughtered like a chicken!
They took their way to the laboratory.
In my fainting condition, my whole life, day by day, passed before me in the moment of a heart’s beat.
The Professor joined us. We went past the Germans’ block, and along beside the courtyard wall. Lerne opened a door on the ground floor of the left wing, and I was laid out under the operating theater, in a sort of wash-house that was as bare as a sepulcher, and all inlaid with white tiles.
A curtain of thick cloth hanging from a rod on rings, separated it into two compartments of equal size.