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Wysłany: Śro 10:23, 06 Kwi 2011
Temat postu: Channel Bags
pouring out of the steerage companionway. 'The Wolf is not yet dead,' I muttered to myself as I sprang down through the smoke. It was so thick in the confined space that I was compelled to feel my way; and, so potent was the spell of Wolf Larsen on my imagination, I was quite prepared for the helpless giant to grip my neck in a stranglehold. I hesitated,
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, the desire to race back and up the steps to the deck almost overpowering me. Then I recollected Maud. The vision of her,
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, as I had last seen her, in the lantern-light of the schooner's hold,
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, her brown eyes warm and moist with joy, flashed before me, and I knew that I could not go back. I was choking and suffocating by the time I reached Wolf Larsen's bunk. I reached in my hand and felt for him. He was lying motionless, but moved slightly at the touch of my hand. I felt over and under his blankets. There was no warmth,
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, no sign of fire. Yet that smoke which blinded me and made me cough and gasp must have a source. I lost my head temporarily, and dashed frantically about the steerage. A collision with the table partly knocked the wind from my body and brought me to myself. I reasoned that a helpless man could start a fire only near to where he lay. I returned to Wolf Larsen's bunk. There I encountered Maud. How long she had been there in that suffocating atmosphere I could not guess. 'Go up on deck,' I commanded peremptorily. 'But, Humphrey-' she began to protest in a queer, husky voice. 'Pleas
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