|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: cross word--not once in all that time. Aye. Not a cross look even.
True that when I do make him speak to me, there is his dear old
self, the quick eye, the kind voice. Could hardly be other to his
old Franklin. But what's the good? Eyes, voice, everything's miles
away. And for all that I take good care never to address him when
the poop isn't clear. Yes! Only we two and nothing but the sea
with us. You think it would be all right; the only chief mate he
ever had--Mr. Franklin here and Mr. Franklin there--when anything
went wrong the first word you would hear about the decks was
'Franklin!'--I am thirteen years older than he is--you would think
it would be all right, wouldn't you? Only we two on this poop on
 Chance |