"He struggled up to the surface and tried to cry out, but the wash from the speeding yacht slapped him in the face."
"He flung himself down at the jungle edge and tumbled headlong into the deepest sleep of his life. When he opened his eyes he knew from the position of the sun that it was late in the afternoon. Sleep had given him a whole new vigor; a sharp hunger was picking at him. He looked about him, almost cheerfully."
"In a cultivated voice marked by a slight accent that gave it added precision and deliberateness, he said, It is a very great pleasure and honor to welcome Mr.Sanger Rainsford, the celebrated hunter, to my home. Automatically Rainsford shook the mans hand."
"The table appointments were of the finest- the linen, the crystal, the silver, the china. They were eating borsch, the rich, the red soup with whipped cream so dear to Russian plates."
"It's a game, you see, pursued the General blandly. I suggest to one of them that we go hunting. I give him a supply of food and an excellent hunting knife. I give him three hours' start. I am to follow, armed only with a pistol of the smallest caliber range. If my quarry eludes me for three whole days, he wins the game. If I find him"--the General smiled--" he loses."
"The general sucked in his breath and smiled. "I congratulate you," he said. "You have won the game." Rainsford did not smile. "I am still a beast at bay," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. "Get ready, General Zaroff." The general made one of his deepest bows. "I see," he said. "Splendid! One of us is to furnish a repast for the hounds. The other will sleep in this very excellent bed. On guard, Rainsford." . . . He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided.