“D’ye think it’s an easy thing to walk up and down on the earth with him lying down there? What would it be to stop thinking about it and just do it?⁠ ⁠… Foulness?⁠ ⁠… Abomination?⁠ ⁠… I don’t know about that.⁠ ⁠… I⁠ ⁠… don’t⁠ ⁠… know.⁠ ⁠…”

His voice died away into complete incoherence. But suddenly it rose once more, shrill and strident. “It falls off⁠ ⁠… it falls off⁠ ⁠… the sweet flesh!”

Wolf stiffened himself in his chair and leant forward. Big drops of rain were descending the chimney, each one hissing with an angry hiss, as it touched the burning logs.

“The lips⁠ ⁠… the lips⁠ ⁠… where are his lips now?”

The man’s voice sank again; but Wolf seemed to catch a low, moaning sound coming from him, a strange, subhuman sound, that was ghastly to listen to.