"Heart of Darkness"
by Joseph Conrad

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     "Now, if he does not say the right thing to them we are all done for," said the Russian at my elbow.

     The knot of men with the stretcher had stopped, too, halfway to the steamer, as if petrified. I saw the man on the stretcher sit up, lank and with an uplifted arm, above the shoulders of the bearers.

     "Let us hope that the man who can talk so well of love in general will find some particular reason to spare us this time," I said.

 

     I resented bitterly the absurd danger of our situation, as if to be at the mercy of that atrocious phantom had been a dishonouring necessity. I could not hear a sound, but through my glasses I saw the thin arm extended commandingly, the lower jaw moving, the eyes of that apparition shining darkly far in its bony head that nodded with grotesque jerks.

 
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