Jim went on smiling at the retreating horizon; his heart was full of generous impulses, and his thought was contemplating his own superiority.

'Drink!' repeated the engineer with amiable scorn: he was hanging on with both hands to the rail, a shadowy figure with flexible legs.

'Not from you, captain.

You're far too mean, b'gosh.

You would let a good man die sooner than give him a drop of schnapps.