Philander went into the next room, which was just a lean-to hitched on to the end of the shanty, and came back with a salt mackerel that dripped brine like a rainstorm. Then he put the coffee pot on the stove and rummaged out a loaf of dry bread and some hardtack.

When all this loose stuff had drifted away we found we had but two sails, the mainsail and the slooplike sail on the mizzenmast […]

He might truly be termed a legitimate son of the revenue system, dyed in the wool, or rather, born in the purple; since his sire, a Revolutionary colonel, and formerly collector of the port, had created an office for him, and appointed him to fill it, at a period of the early ages which few living men can now remember.

Montagnier soon deduced that this was an RNA virus that could convert its genes into DNA and lodge into the human genome—a retrovirus.