“Wot abaht the slaves, sir?” says bosun. “Them black devils is liable to cut their throats aht o’ spite if we sink her.”
Ballantyne weighed this for a good two seconds, frowning judicially like Buggins Major undecided whether to thrash Juggins minor or set him a hundred lines of Virgil.
Flashman on the March,
p.19,
Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.
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