human
What the devil are you cackling at, sacred head of pig that you are? Do you want to be pitched out of that window into the Rue de Seine? You filthy black Hebrew sweep! Just you wait a bit; _I'll_ wash your head for you!
gpt
Donnerwetter! he exclaimed, as he tumbled down the narrow staircase of the Hôtel de Seine;
human
Now will I go to that Scottish Englander, in the Place St. Anatole des Arts, for that other five-franc piece. But first will I wait a little while till he has perhaps finished trying to get himself clean.