"Cooky, by the time you've finished pots and pans you'll be wanted on deck.

Stand ready for a call." "Hump," he said, becoming cognizant of the fascinated gaze I bent upon him, "this beats whisky and is where your Omar misses.

I think he only half lived after all." The western half of the sky had by now grown murky.

The sun had dimmed and faded out of sight.

It was two in the afternoon, and a ghostly twilight, shot through by wandering purplish lights, had descended upon us.