H. Bedford-Jones

“ Shinski turned upon him. “Where is Marie gone?”
The very beautiful face of Gerin set toward him like a mask, in which only the dark eyes lived and flamed.
“Marie?” he countered. “She is not to be present at the meeting. She is too filled with anger and old resentment to be impartial.”
Shinski threw up his arms. “Impartial!” he screamed. “Who in hell—”
“Shut up!” snapped Gerin. “None of your ranting now, Serge; I’m running this affair, and I mean to run it! You fool, do you want to quarrel with me now? With Boris Kryalpin aboard? ”

“ Shinski laughed, as did his companions. “God?” he said gutturally, and sneered. “We tried out God in Russia, huh? And where was he? Bah! You aristocrats—”
“Enough,” said Abe Gerin from his corner, and Shinski subsided.
“I am sorry that Marie is suffering from mal de mer and could not be present,” pursued Boris, speaking to Mrs. Ivanoff. “She has endured much from you and yours, that woman. She would be glad to see your death. But, my dear madame, you have served us well, and we do not expect to reward you so poorly.”
He turned now to Venable and Garrity. ”

“ They’d sell out to any divil that was loose from hell, them two birds would!”
Boris regarded him with narrowed eyes.
“I would advise you,” he said gently, “to moderate your language and views. You really are not needed aboard this ship, Mr. Garrity, because Comrade Marks is an excellent machinist, and your friend called Stormalong has already agreed to obey Captain Hewson’s orders—which are my orders. So be careful.”
Once more Shinski looked at Abe Gerin, alarm in his eyes. But Garrity, gulping down an oath, made no response. Venable said nothing at all. ”