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As a heavy fog surrounds the ship, injured sailor Yank lies
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THE CAPTAIN. (taking out his watch and feeling YANK’s pulse) How do you feel now?
YANK. (feebly) All right, sir.
THE CAPTAIN. And the pain in your chest?
YANK. It still hurts, sir, worse than ever.
THE CAPTAIN. (taking a thermometer from his pocket and putting it into YANK’s mouth) Here. Be sure and keep this in under your tongue, not over it.
THE MATE. (after a pause) Isn’t this your watch on deck, Driscoll?
DRISCOLL. Yes, sorr, but Yank was fearin’ to be alone, and
THE CAPTAIN. That’s all right.
DRISCOLL. ‘Thank ye, sorr.
THE CAPTAIN. (stares at his watch for a moment or so; then takes the thermometer from YANK’s mouth and goes to the lamp to read it. His expression grows very grave. He beckons the MATE and DRISCOLL to the corner near the doorway. YANK watches them furtively. The
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