At first he was inclined to be a bit offish; but, presently, he came
round, and told me that he did not know of any particular incident which
could be called unusual in the sense in which I meant. Yet that, at the
same time, there were lots of little things which, if you put them
together, made you think a bit. For instance, she always made such long
passages and had so much dirty weather--nothing but that and calms and
head winds. Then, other things happened; sails that he knew, himself,
had been properly stowed, were always blowing adrift _at night_. And
then he said a thing that surprised me.
"There's too many bloomin' shadders about this 'ere packet; they gets
onter yer nerves like nothin' as ever I seen before in me nat'ral."
He blurted it all out in a heap, and I turned round and looked at him.
"Too many shadows!" I said. "What on earth do you mean?" But he refused
to explain himself or tell me anything further--just shook his head,
stupidly, when I questioned him. He seemed to have taken a sudden, sulky
fit.
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