"See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. He turned, and beheld Winifred. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. There were three other ships at anchor; but as two would be making Shanghai and one rounding to Singapore two days hence, it was logically certain that no fugitive would seek haven in one of these. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it.
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