Лорд Джим

Chapter 3

           ThefuryoftheNewSouthWalesGermanwasextreme;hepuffedlikeanexhaust-pipe,andJim,faintlyamusedbythescene,wasimpatientforthetimewhenhecouldgetbelow:thelasttenminutesofthewatchwereirritatinglikeagunthathangsfire;thosemendidnotbelongtotheworldofheroicadventure;theyweren’tbadchapsthough.Eventheskipperhimself...Hisgorgeroseatthemassofpantingfleshfromwhichissuedgurglingmutters,acloudytrickleoffilthyexpressions;buthewastoopleasurablylanguidtodislikeactivelythisoranyotherthing.Thequalityofthesemendidnotmatter;herubbedshoulderswiththem,buttheycouldnottouchhim;hesharedtheairtheybreathed,buthewasdifferent....Wouldtheskippergofortheengineer?...Thelifewaseasyandhewastoosureofhimselftoosureofhimselfto...Thelinedividinghismeditationfromasurreptitiousdozeonhisfeetwasthinnerthanathreadinaspider’sweb.

           Thesecondengineerwascomingbyeasytransitionstotheconsiderationofhisfinancesandofhiscourage.

           ‘Who’sdrunk?I?No,no,captain!Thatwon’tdo.Yououghttoknowbythistimethechiefain’tfree-heartedenoughtomakeasparrowdrunk,b’gosh.I’veneverbeentheworseforliquorinmylife;thestuffain’tmadeyetthatwouldmakemedrunk.Icoulddrinkliquidfireagainstyourwhiskypegforpeg,b’gosh,andkeepascoolasacucumber.IfIthoughtIwasdrunkIwouldjumpoverboarddoawaywithmyself,b’gosh.

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