This strange struggle with
myself taxed all my powers; the sweat started out on my forehead. At
last the moment came when I could struggle no longer. I laid my hand on
the keyboard, and pushed myself round on the stool. There was a
momentary dazzle before my eyes, and after that I saw plainly. My hand,
striking the keys, had produced a jarring discord; and while this was
yet tingling in my ears, Paton, who was sitting in his old place at the
table, with his back toward me, faced about in his chair, and his eyes
met mine. I thought he smiled.
My excitement was past, and was succeeded by a dead calm. I examined
him critically. His appearance was much the same as when in life; nay,
he was even more like himself than before. The subtle or crafty
expression which had always been discernible in his features was now
intensified, and there was something wild and covertly fierce in the
shining of his gray eyes, something that his smile was unable to
disguise. What was human and genial in my former friend had passed
away, and what remained was evil--the kind of evil that I now perceived
to have been at the base of his nature.
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