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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

"
"Then we may find another," said Harry hopefully.
I agreed that it was possible. Then he burst out:
"In the name of Heaven, don't be so cool! We can't get out till
we try. Come! And who knows--we may find Desiree."
Then I decided it was best to tell him. Evidently the thought
had not entered his mind, and it was best for him to realize the
worst. I gripped his hand tighter as I said:
"Nothing so pleasant, Harry. Because we're going to starve to
death."
"Starve to death?" he exclaimed. Then he added simply, with an
oddly pathetic tone: "I hadn't thought of that."
After that we lay silent for many minutes in that awful darkness.
Thoughts and memories came and went in my brain with incredible
swiftness; pictures long forgotten presented themselves; an
endless, jumbled panorama. They say that a drowning man reviews
his past life in the space of a few seconds; it took me a little
more time, but the job was certainly a thorough one. Nor did I
find it more interesting in retrospect than it had been in
reality.
I closed my eyes to escape the darkness. It was maddening; easy
enough then to comprehend the hysterics of the blind and
sympathize with them.


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