 You think I let her life be made sorry by you like her mother's was by me? No, no, I swear she don't marry you if I got to kill you first. Glory be to God. It's bold talk you have for a stumpy runt of a man. Well, you see... I'll see, surely. I'll see myself and Anna married this day, I'm telling you. It's queer fool's blather you have about the sea done this and the sea done that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, be saying the like, and you an old sailor yourself.