Explore "Mrs. Clinton" by Louis Becke on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Till dawn the convicts urged the boat along through the fog, then they ceased rowing and ate ravenously of the food in the boat's locker.
Lying upon the sail in the bottom, of the boat, Mrs. Clinton slept. The night was warm, her wet clothing did her no harm, and her sleep was the sleep of physical and mental exhaustion. As the rising sun sent its rays through the now lifting fog, Adair touched the sleeping woman on her shoulder.