Forty is... not insignificant, but, if need be, we could...
( Forty, dear God. Whom is he kidding? Forty is half too many, by far. When he drinks next, it's to the same game as Mr. Kirk beside him — biding his time. His grimace.
Until — )
...women? ( Why on earth is this a trouble — ...oohhhhhhhh. ) Are they... whores, Mr. Kirk? Pox-bearing? Clap? I can't take them, if they've got the sickness, sir, it'll only spread. You know how it is, with sailors. And we've been weeks at sea. But if they're clean —
( Oh, again. Wait. ) ...which is it? Are they pox-ridden whores, or is this the superstition nonsense?
no subject
( Forty, dear God. Whom is he kidding? Forty is half too many, by far. When he drinks next, it's to the same game as Mr. Kirk beside him — biding his time. His grimace.
Until — )
...women? ( Why on earth is this a trouble — ...oohhhhhhhh. ) Are they... whores, Mr. Kirk? Pox-bearing? Clap? I can't take them, if they've got the sickness, sir, it'll only spread. You know how it is, with sailors. And we've been weeks at sea. But if they're clean —
( Oh, again. Wait. ) ...which is it? Are they pox-ridden whores, or is this the superstition nonsense?