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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Drift from Two Shores"

As I looked over the glimmering expanse, I
suddenly heard the whispered name of our first mate. As suddenly,
by the phosphorescent light that surrounded it, I saw the long
trailing hair and gleaming shoulders of a woman floating beside us.
Legrande, you are positively drinking nothing. Lightbody, you are
shirking the Burgundy--you used to like it!"
He paused, but no one spoke.
"I--let me see! where was I? Oh, yes! Well, I saw the woman, and
when I turned to call the attention of the first mate to this fact,
I knew instantly, by some strange instinct, that he had seen and
heard her, too. So, from that moment to the conclusion of our
little drama, we were silent, but enforced spectators.
"She swam gracefully--silently! I remember noticing through that
odd, half-weird, phosphorescent light which broke over her
shoulders as she rose and fell with each quiet stroke of her
splendidly rounded arms, that she was a mature, perfectly-formed
woman. I remember, also, that when she reached the boat, and,
supporting herself with one small hand on the gunwale, she softly
called the mate in a whisper by his Christian name, I had a boyish
idea that she was--the--er--er--female of his species--his--er--
natural wife! I'm boring you--am I not?"
Two or three heads shook violently and negatively.


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