The Man Who Laughs


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about to enter--a man, the man on the hill; a woman, the woman in the  
snow; and the little girl whom he was carrying in his arms.  
He was exhausted by fatigue and hunger, yet advanced more resolutely  
than ever, with less strength and an added burden. He was now almost  
naked. The few rags which remained to him, hardened by the frost, were  
sharp as glass, and cut his skin. He became colder, but the infant was  
warmer. That which he lost was not thrown away, but was gained by her.  
He found out that the poor infant enjoyed the comfort which was to her  
the renewal of life. He continued to advance.  
From time to time, still holding her securely, he bent down, and taking  
a handful of snow he rubbed his feet with it, to prevent their being  
frost-bitten. At other times, his throat feeling as if it were on fire,  
he put a little snow in his mouth and sucked it; this for a moment  
assuaged his thirst, but changed it into fever--a relief which was an  
aggravation.  
The storm had become shapeless from its violence. Deluges of snow are  
possible. This was one. The paroxysm scourged the shore at the same time  
that it uptore the depths of ocean. This was, perhaps, the moment when  
the distracted hooker was going to pieces in the battle of the breakers.  
He travelled under this north wind, still towards the east, over wide  
surfaces of snow. He knew not how the hours had passed. For a long time  
he had ceased to see the smoke. Such indications are soon effaced in the  
night; besides, it was past the hour when fires are put out. Or he had,  
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228 229 230 231 232

Quick Jump
1 236 472 708 944