( They're two with a temper, and Mr. Eames, God bless him, he prays each night for a clean, strong blade and some rum left at the bottom of his bottle, and maybe some dulling of his temper, certainly. With certainty. )
Aye, you think you're something, ain't you? Ain't you? You know what you are? Ye're for the brig.
( ...but then, he remembers the captains aren't fond of treating the ladies rough, and though he thinks, him, a belting and a sore word would teach her wrong and right, he won't be the one to incur the Rope.
Not without provable cause. Carefully: ) You want that? Do ye? Talkin'back some?
no subject
( They're two with a temper, and Mr. Eames, God bless him, he prays each night for a clean, strong blade and some rum left at the bottom of his bottle, and maybe some dulling of his temper, certainly. With certainty. )
Aye, you think you're something, ain't you? Ain't you? You know what you are? Ye're for the brig.
( ...but then, he remembers the captains aren't fond of treating the ladies rough, and though he thinks, him, a belting and a sore word would teach her wrong and right, he won't be the one to incur the Rope.
Not without provable cause. Carefully: ) You want that? Do ye? Talkin'back some?