Before she died, my mother spoke to Elizabeth andmyself. I was going to study at the great German University of Heidelburg. But my father wants me towork in the family business. Your work will be known all over the world.’ ‘We shall always be friends, Henry,’ I told him. We shall be togetheragain in the holidays.’ ‘Write to me soon, Victor,’ Henry said. In the morning, I said goodbye to my father, to Elizabeth and to my little brother, William, Iwas sorry to leave home.

She’s dead.” I turned away and my eyes were full of tears.

But I did not want to stay with my father and Elizabeth.

I worked hard to find the answers to these questions.

They said it was possible to make a dead man live again.

My younger brother William was born when I was twelve years old. “My dear Victor, the family hopes that you will do great things,” she said. I spent my last evening in Geneva with my friend, Henry Clerval.

Before she died, my mother spoke to Elizabeth and myself.

The months passed and I forgot about my family and my friends.

I took parts of dead men from hospitals and graveyards. I was making a man – a huge man – the biggest, strongest man who had ever lived.

The silver light reached the hands, the feet and the head.