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Show -371- "You sit here," she told him in her motherly voice, "I'll see if I can get some water." The Professor struggled to see through his still burning eyes; but all he could make out were vague shapes passing and repassing before him. At least, he told himself, his sight must not be gone. When he kept his eyes open, they watered, and tearlike drops ran down his cheeks. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, and when he pulled it out his glasses frames came with it and he heard them clatter on what seemed to wast be a cement floor? He bent over and groped, but could not locate them? At the moment, they seemed less important than the pain in his head and back when he bent forward? He wiped his cheeks with his handkerchief, then left it crumpled in his fist as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes? Since he couldn't see? he t r i e d to determine through the sounds around him what was taking place? They were too caca-phonous to be sorted into sense, something like the babble at a cocktail party? and the only words that stuck out were an occasional obscenity or when someone near him said: "Look at that poor bastard? He r e a l l y got i t . " He could t e l l that the space was f i l l i n g ? so more vans must be arriving a l l the time? The room? or whatever i t was? was groxring warmer, and, although his n o s t r i l s seemed clogged? he could make out the smell of sweating flesh? Then he heard the g i r l ' s voice again? |