“Can’t tell you here.”
“Why not?”
“Never mind; but put on your sky-scraper, and come down with me to the grog-shop wot I frequents, and I’ll tell ye.”
“I’ll do nothing of the sort; be off,” cried the captain, preparing to slam the door.
“Oh! it’s all the same to me, in coorse, but I rather think if ye know’d that it’s ’bout the Termagant, and that ’ere whale wot—but it don’t matter. Good-mornin’.”
“Stay,” cried the captain, as the last words fell on his ears.
“Have you really anything to say to me about that ship?”
“In coorse I has.”
“Won’t you come in and say it here?”
“Not by no means. You must come down to the grog-shop with me.”