human
You see?
gpt
A thousand thunders! he roared, while the black blood swelled in his temples,
human
It is the fortune of war, said Webster, looking around.
gpt
But while we talk the ship may be sinking for want of a little sailor-like care. Have you a spare sail, senor?
human
You surly brute! cried Webster.
gpt
Here, men, cut away the mizzen sail!