Margery helps me with all
the things in which I am helpless; and, oh Dicky, you would never
believe how many they are! And the awful, awful dark--a black
curtain always in front of you, sometimes seeming hard and firm,
like a wall of coal, within an inch of your face; sometimes sinking
away into soft depths of blackness--miles and miles of distant,
silent, horrible darkness; until you feel you must fall forward into
it and be submerged and overwhelmed. And out of that darkness come
voices. And if they speak loudly, they hit you like tapping hammers;
and if they murmur indistinctly, they madden you because you can't
SEE what is causing it. You can't see that they are holding pins in
their mouths, and that therefore they are mumbling; or that they are
half under the bed, trying to get out something which has rolled
there, and therefore the voice seems to come from somewhere beneath
the earth. And, because you cannot see these things to account for
it, the variableness of sound torments you.
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