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Updated: June 16, 2025
He was dressed in a suit of oilskins, a life-preserver strapped under his arms; he wore no hat, and at every gust his drenched hair and beard whipped across his face. Just as the boat was pulling away from the wreck, Vandover and the others saw the little Jew of the plush cap with the ear-laps standing upon the rail of the steamer, holding to a stanchion.
Vandover put his arm about her neck and drew her toward him, and as she sank down upon him, smiling and complaisant, her hair tumbling upon her shoulders and her head and throat bent back, he leaned his cheek against hers, speaking in a low voice. "No no," she murmured, smiling; "never ah, if I hadn't come no, Van please " And then with a long breath she abandoned herself.
As soon as he had made up his mind to put the "deal" through, he had seen Vandover at his rooms early in the morning and had induced him to promise not to engage any other counsel and in general keep very quiet about the whole business.
At the crossing of Polk Street he saw Ida Wade's mother in deep mourning, standing near a grocery store holding a little pink parcel. It was like a blow between the eyes. Vandover caught his breath and started violently, feeling again for an instant the cold grip of the hysterical terror that had so nearly overcome him on the morning after Ida's death.
The fabric of his nature was shaken and broken up, it was true, but if he left it to itself there was danger that it would re-form upon the old lines. And this was precisely what Vandover did.
As Vandover rose with the rest the blood rushed to his head and a feeling of nausea and exhaustion, the dregs of his previous night's debauch, came over him again for a moment, so that he took hold of the back of the pew in front of him to steady himself.
There was a cry; they thought him killed Vandover had seen his head gashed against a sharp angle of iron but he jumped up with sudden agility, clambering up the slope of the deck with the strength and rapidity of an acrobat. There had been a great rush to the other side of the ship, a wild scrambling up the steep deck, over skylights and between masts and ventilators.
The engineer did not answer, but Vandover in some way understood that it was too dangerous to attempt to run the breakers in such heavy weather, and that they must keep in the open, holding the boat head on to the seas until either the wind fell or they were picked up by some other vessel.
Vandover looked at what the Dummy had written, and said: "Fifteen." "Twenty," scribbled the Dummy, as he watched Vandover's lips form the word. "Twenty-five," returned Vandover. The Dummy hesitated a moment and then wrote "thirty." Ellis shook his head saying, "I'll keep the bank myself at that." "Forty dollars!" cried Vandover. The Dummy shook his head, leaning back in his chair.
One evening, however, about three months after the first crisis and just as Vandover was becoming well accustomed to the condition of body and mind in which it had left him, the second attack came on. It was fearful, much worse than on the first occasion, and this time there was no room for doubt. Vandover knew that for the moment he was actually insane.
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