Th e word “it” in line 3 refers to
(a) a vessel
(b) the water
(c) the fl ood
(d) the sun
(e) the wind

passage 2. joseph conrad, heart of darkness
th e nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a fl utter of the sails,
and was at rest. th e fl ood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound
down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide.
th e sea-reach of the th ames stretched before us like the beginning of an interminable
waterway. in the offi ng the sea and the sky were welded together without
a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with
the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams
of varnished sprits. a haze rested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing
fl atness. th e air was dark above gravesend, and farther back still seemed condensed
into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest, and the greatest,
town on earth.
th e director of companies was our captain and our host. we four aff ectionately
watched his back as he stood in the bows looking to seaward. on the whole
river there was nothing that looked half so nautical. he resembled a pilot, which to
a seaman is trustworthiness personifi ed. it was diffi cult to realize his work was not
out there in the luminous estuary, but behind him, within the brooding gloom.
between us there was, as i have already said somewhere, the bond of the sea.
besides holding our hearts together through long periods of separation, it had
the eff ect of making us tolerant of each other’s yarns—and even convictions. th e
lawyer—the best of old fellows—had, because of his many years and many virtues,
the only cushion on deck, and was lying on the only rug. th e accountant had
brought out already a box of dominoes, and was toying architecturally with the
bones. marlow sat cross-legged right aft, leaning against the mizzen-mast. he had
sunken cheeks, a yellow complexion, a straight back, an ascetic aspect, and, with
his arms dropped, the palms of hands outwards, resembled an idol. th e director,
satisfi ed the anchor had good hold, made his way aft and sat down amongst us.
we exchanged a few words lazily. afterwards there was silence on board the yacht.
for some reason or other we did not begin that game of dominoes. we felt meditative,
and fi t for nothing but placid staring. th e day was ending in a serenity of
still and exquisite brilliance. th e water shone pacifi cally; the sky, without a speck,
was a benign immensity of unstained light; the very mist on the essex marsh was
like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland, and draping
the low shores in diaphanous folds. only the gloom to the west, brooding over the
upper reaches, became more sombre every minute, as if angered by the approach
of the sun.
and at last, in its curved and imperceptible fall, the sun sank low, and from
glowing white changed to a dull red without rays and without heat, as if about
to go out suddenly, stricken to death by the touch of that gloom brooding over a
crowd of men.