"Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door. She felt like a dried-up old woman. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden.
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