He squinted and a disgusted look came over him. The barometer says nothing, neither the sky nor the water; the skipper has the "feel" that out yonder there's a big blow moving. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. The Red Room.
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