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same gentle swish of the water and an occasional toot from a whistle, broke the air.  The New York shore showed no lights.  Staten Island was inky black and from Bayonne to the latter island only six single lights were visible in the [[strikethrough]]murk  [[/strikethrough]] murk.  The stillness was intense and I thanked my stars for having to break the monotony by calling the chef and an orderly and then building the breakfast fire. [[line]]