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A Dream of the North Sea by James Runciman
page 39 of 184 (21%)
"Did the time seem long?"

"Longer than all my lifetime."

Not more than half a minute had passed since the hulk shook herself
clear, but Larmor and Lewis had lived long. The doctor took out the
handy flask and put it to the skipper's lips; the poor man's eyes were
bright and conscious, but his jaw hung. He pointed to his chin, and the
doctor knew that the blow of falling mast or wreckage had dislocated the
jaw.

In all the wide world was there such another drama of peril and tenor
being enacted? Lewis's hands almost refused their office; he was
unsteady on his legs, but he gathered his powers with a desperate effort
of the will, and set the man's jaw. "Stop, stop! You mustn't speak.
Wait." With a dripping handkerchief and his own belt Ferrier bound
Larmor's jaw up; then for the first time he looked for the fellows
forward.

Both gone! Oh! friends who trifle cheerily with that dainty second
course, what does your turbot cost? Reckon it up by rigid arithmetic,
and work out the calculation when you are on your knees if you can. All
over the North Sea that night there were desolate places that rang to
the cry of parting souls; after vain efforts and vain hopes, the
drowning seamen felt the last lethargy twine like a cold serpent around
them; the pitiless sea smote them dumb; the pitiless sky, rolling over
just and unjust, lordly peer and choking sailor, gave them no hope;
there was a whole tragedy in the breasts of all those doomed ones--a
tragedy keen and subtle as that enacted when a Kaiser dies. You may not
think so, but I know. Forlorn hope of civilization, they met the onset
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