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After lunch, he rose and gave me the tips of his fingers, saying he would like to show me over his flat; but I snatched away my hand and gave a cry. What I had touched was cold and, at the same time, bony; and I remembered that his hands smelt of death. βOh, forgive me!β he moaned. And he opened a door before me. βThis is my bedroom, if you care to see it. It is rather curious.β His manners, his words, his attitude gave me confidence and I went in without hesitation. I felt as if I were entering the room of a dead person. The walls were all hung with black, but, instead of the white trimmings that usually set off that funereal upholstery, there was an enormous stave of music with the notes of the DIES IRAE, many times repeated. In the middle of the room was a canopy, from which hung curtains of red brocaded stuff, and, under the canopy, an open coffin. 'That is where I sleep,β said Erik. 'One has to get used to everything in life, even to eternity.β The sight upset me so much that I turned away my headβ
- Chapter 12: Apolloβs Lyre
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