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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"After Dark"

I had slept in worse places than
this on my travels; so I determined to lock, bolt, and barricade
my door, and take my chance till the next morning.
Accordingly, I secured myself against all intrusion; looked under
the bed, and into the cupboard; tried the fastening of the
window; and then, satisfied that I had taken every proper
precaution, pulled off my upper clothing, put my light, which was
a dim one, on the hearth among a feathery litter of wood-ashes,
and got into bed, with the handkerchief full of money under my
pillow.
I soon felt not only that I could not go to sleep, but that I
could not even close my eyes. I was wide awake, and in a high
fever. Every nerve in my body trembled--every one of my senses
seemed to be preternaturally sharpened. I tossed and rolled, and
tried every kind of position, and perseveringly sought out the
cold corners of the bed, and all to no purpose. Now I thrust my
arms over the clothes; now I poked them under the clothes; now I
violently shot my legs straight out down to the bottom of the
bed; now I convulsively coiled them up as near my chin as they
would go; now I shook out my crumpled pillow, changed it to the
cool side, patted it flat, and lay down quietly on my back; now I
fiercely doubled it in two, set it up on end, thrust it against
the board of the bed, and tried a sitting posture. Every effort
was in vain; I groaned with vexation as I felt that I was in for
a sleepless night.


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