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Updated: May 7, 2025
He heard Storch's malevolent chuckle answering him. When they arrived at Storch's shack Fred was exhausted. He threw himself at once upon the couch, drawing the tattered quilts over his head, and thus he lay all night in a semistupor. He heard the nightly gathering drift in, and there were times when its babble reached him in vague faraway echoes.
It was his custom, when I lay weak and helpless in the semistupor of starvation, to glide into my cell and, standing by my couch, to recite to me the list of tempting viands that might appear daily upon the board of a Countess of Claiborne. "He soon learned that his very presence itself was a persecution. After my release from jail the last time, he began to follow me everywhere.
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