It seemed to
have consumed all thought of self so completely, that even while he
was talking to you, you forgot that it was he--the man before your
eyes--who had gone through these things. I did not envy him his devotion
to Kurtz, though. He had not meditated over it. It came to him, and
he accepted it with a sort of eager fatalism. I must say that to me it
appeared about the most dangerous thing in every way he had come upon so
far.
"They had come together unavoidably, like two ships becalmed near
each other, and lay rubbing sides at last. I suppose Kurtz wanted an
audience, because on a certain occasion, when encamped in the forest,
they had talked all night, or more probably Kurtz had talked. 'We talked
of everything,' he said, quite transported at the recollection. 'I
forgot there was such a thing as sleep. The night did not seem to last
an hour. Everything! Everything! . . . Of love, too.' 'Ah, he talked to
you of love!' I said, much amused. 'It isn't what you think,' he cried,
almost passionately. 'It was in general. He made me see things--things.'
"He threw his arms up. We were on deck at the time, and the headman
of my wood-cutters, lounging near by, turned upon him his heavy and
glittering eyes.
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