Explore "The Beetle" by Richard Marsh on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When I left papa -- or, rather, when papa had driven me from him -- I went straight to the man whom I had found in the street. It was late, and I was feeling both tired and worried, so that I only thought of seeing for myself how he was. In some way, he seemed to be a link between Paul and myself, and as, at that moment, links of that kind were precious, I could not have gone to bed without learning something of his condition.
The nurse received me at the door.