Explore "The Face In The Abyss" by Abraham Merritt on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT WAS DAWN when Graydon awakened.
Some one had thrown a blanket over him during the night, but he was, nevertheless, cold and stiff. He drew his legs up and down painfully, trying to start the sluggish blood. He heard the others stirring in the tent. He wondered which of them had thought of the blanket, and why he had been moved to that kindness.