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第199节（第9901-9950行） (199/367)
of
the
bedroom,
and
plucking
at
the
little
balls
which
edge
the
claret–coloured
curtain.
but
when
the
self
speaks
to
the
self,
who
is
speaking?—the
entombed
soul,
the
spirit
driven
in,
in,
in
to
the
central
catacomb;
the
self
that
took
the
veil
and
left
the
world—a
coward
perhaps,
yet