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- Стр. 179/193
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"
You
are
jesting
,
"
said
Strickland
.
"
I
wish
to
God
I
were
.
"
"
Do
you
intend
to
tell
me
that
I
have
leprosy
?
"
"
Unfortunately
,
there
can
be
no
doubt
of
it
.
"
Dr
.
Coutras
had
delivered
sentence
of
death
on
many
men
,
and
he
could
never
overcome
the
horror
with
which
it
filled
him
.
He
felt
always
the
furious
hatred
that
must
seize
a
man
condemned
when
he
compared
himself
with
the
doctor
,
sane
and
healthy
,
who
had
the
inestimable
privilege
of
life
.
Strickland
looked
at
him
in
silence
.
Nothing
of
emotion
could
be
seen
on
his
face
,
disfigured
already
by
the
loathsome
disease
.
"
Do
they
know
?
"
he
asked
at
last
,
pointing
to
the
persons
on
the
verandah
,
now
sitting
in
unusual
,
unaccountable
silence
.
"
These
natives
know
the
signs
so
well
,
"
said
the
doctor
.
"
They
were
afraid
to
tell
you
.
"
Strickland
stepped
to
the
door
and
looked
out
.
There
must
have
been
something
terrible
in
his
face
,
for
suddenly
they
all
burst
out
into
loud
cries
and
lamentation
.
They
lifted
up
their
voices
and
they
wept
.
Strickland
did
not
speak
.
After
looking
at
them
for
a
moment
,
he
came
back
into
the
room
.
"
How
long
do
you
think
I
can
last
?
"
