16 The Wine-Dark Sea - Libro della tutto

Patrick O'Brian The Wine-Dark Sea
'You may not,' said Stephen. 'You can barely
stand, my poor colleague, sick as you are.'
'Pray take me. I cannot bear to be left in this
room: I hate and dread it. I could not bring
myself to pass by its door, even. This is where
I... this is where Mrs Oakes... the wages of sin
is death... I am rotting here in this life, while in
the next... Christe eleison.'
'Kyrie eleison,' said Stephen. 'But listen, Nathaniel,
will you? You are not rotting as the
seamen put it: not at all. These are salt-sores:
they are no more, unless you have taken some
improper physic. In this ship you could not
have contracted any infection of that kind.
There has been no source of infection,
whether by kissing, toying, drinking in the
same cup, or otherwise: none whatsoever. I
state that as a physician.'
The wind had hauled a little farther forward,