\"No。\"
\"Ain’titabeute？\"
\"Yes。\"Kentnoddedhisheadapprovingly，intentonhumoringthisstrangevisitor，butwhollyunpreparedfortheoutburstwhichwastofollowhisefforttobeagreeable。
\"Youblasted，bloomin’，burgoo—eatin’son—of—a—sea—swab！Wotdoyoumean，asayin’themostonsightlythingGawdAlmightyeverputonthefaceo’manisabeute？Wotdoyoumean，you——\"
AndthereatthisfierysonoftheseabrokeoffintoastringofOrientalprofanity，minglinggodsanddevils，lineagesandmen，metaphorsandmonsters，withsosavageavirilitythatJacobKentwasparalyzed。Heshrankback，hisarmsliftedasthoughtowardoffphysicalviolence。Soutterlyunnervedwashethattheotherpausedinthemid—swingofagorgeousperorationandburstintothunderouslaughter。