Digital Manuscript ProjectMalone meurt / Malone Dies

[2325] think we gazed at each other literally for hours, without wink-
ing.
[2326] He probably imagined he could stare me down, because I am old
and helpless.
[2327] The poor bastard.
[2328] It was so long since I had seen a
biped of this description that I had my eyes out on stalks, as the
saying is, for fear of not being able to credit them.
[2329] I said to
myself, One fof these days they'll start grazing the trees.
[2330] And the
face they have!
[2331] I had forgotten.
[2332] At a certain moment, incommoded
by the smell probably, he squeezed himself in between the bed and
the wall, to try and open the window.
[2333] He couldn't.
[2334] In the morning
I didn't take my eyes off him.
[2335] But in the afternoon I slept a little.
[2336] I don't know what he did while I was asleep, rummaged in my posses-
sions probably, with his umbrella, they are scattered all over the floor now.
[2337] I thought
for a moment he had been sent by the funeral people.
[2338] Those who have
enabled me to live till now will no doubt see to it that I am buried
with a minimum of cerempony.
[2339] Here lies Malone at last, with the dates
to give a faint idea of the time he took to be absolved excused and then to
distinguish him from his namesakes, numerous in the island and be-
yond the grave.
[2340] Funny I never ran into one, to my knowledge, not
one.
[2341] There is still time.
[2342] Here lies a ne'er-do-well, six feet under
hell.
[2343] But for a moment only, I mean half-an-hour at most.
[2344] Then I
tried him with other functions, all equally disappointing.
[2345] Strange
need to know who people are and how what they do for a living and
what they want with you.
[2346] In spite of the ease with which he wore
his black and manipulated his umbrella and his consummate mastery
of the block-hat, I had for a time the impression he was disguised;
disguised, but from what if I may say so, and as what?
[2347] At a given
moment, yet another, he took fright, for his breath came faster and
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Malone meurt / Malone Dies © 2017 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt