The discreet black object had made its appearance now and then in the boat among tins, pickles, preserved meats, and as the voyage went on had become more and more irrelevant, hardly to be believed in.
And now, the world being stable, lit by candle-light, the dinner jacket alone preserved him.

He could not be sufficiently thankful.

Even so his neck, wrists, and face were exposed without cover, and his whole person, whether exposed or not, tingled and glowed so as to make even black cloth an imperfect screen.

He drew back the great red hand that lay on the table-cloth.

Surreptitiously it closed upon slim glasses and curved silver forks.