"It's hell, lady."
Miss Burton was taken aback by the tone of conviction. After all, this grotesque young sea monster was no true amphibian.
"Well, what are you going to do ashore?" she asked after a pause, while she gazed at him in astonishment.
"Dunno."
"No plans?"
The boy shook his head.
"Like another tankard of mild?"
"Yes, please, lady."
The impact of the bar-lady's easy and familiar style had caused a rather sharp relapse from the Klondyke standard of refinement, but not for a moment did the Sailor forget the dignity of her estate. In spite of the hybrid words he used, the note of subtle deference was never out of his voice; and Miss Burton, unconsciously intrigued by it, became even more interested in this strange product of the high seas.
"How long have you been afloat?" She handed him a second tankard of mild.