The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 1


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was very remarkable, and, taking all things into consideration, I could  
hardly blame Jupiter for his opinion respecting it; but what to make of  
Legrand's concordance with that opinion, I could not, for the life of  
me, tell.  
"I sent for you," said he, in a grandiloquent tone, when I had completed  
my examination of the beetle, "I sent for you, that I might have your  
counsel and assistance in furthering the views of Fate and of the bug"--  
"My dear Legrand," I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly unwell,  
and had better use some little precautions. You shall go to bed, and  
I will remain with you a few days, until you get over this. You are  
feverish and"--  
"Feel my pulse," said he.  
I felt it, and, to say the truth, found not the slightest indication of  
fever.  
"But you may be ill and yet have no fever. Allow me this once to  
prescribe for you. In the first place, go to bed. In the next"--  
"You are mistaken," he interposed, "I am as well as I can expect to be  
under the excitement which I suffer. If you really wish me well, you  
will relieve this excitement."  
131  


Page
129 130 131 132 133

Quick Jump
1 90 180 269 359