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. Chickens scurrying out of the way. The ship that wasn't my ship - but was. Margrethe -
Margrethe!
'Thy two breasts are like two roes - thou art all fair, my love!'
Margrethe among the dancers, her bosom as bare as her feet. Margrethe dancing with that villainous kanaka, and shaking her -
No wonder I got drunk!
Stow it, chum! You were drunk before that. All you've got against that native lad is that it was he instead of you. You wanted to dance with her yourself. Only you can't dance.
Dancing is a snare of Satan.
And don't you wish you knew how!
'- like two roes'! Yes I do!
I heard a light tap at the door, then a rattle of keys. Margrethe stuck her head in. 'Awake? Good.' She came in, carrying a tray, closed the door, came to me. 'Drink this.'
'What is it?'
'Tomato juice, mostly. Don't argue - drink it!'
'I don't think I can.'
'Yes, you can. You must. Do it.'
I sniffed it, then I took a small sip. To my amazement it did not nauseate me. So I drank some more. After one minor quiver it went down smoothly and lay quietly inside me. Margrethe produced two pills. 'Take these. Wash them down with the rest of the tomato juice.'
'I never take medicine.'
She sighed, and said something I did not understand. Not English. Not quite. 'What did you say?'
'Just something my grandmother used to say when grandfather argued with her. Mr Graham, take those pills. They are just aspirin and you need them
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