He spat again, and waved a claw towards the forward bulkhead.
“They’ll do it for yeh,” he said. “You’re such a green goose, it makes
me sick a bit. You hevn’t reckoned out the chances, not quite. It’s a
kind of dead reckoning yeh hevn’t had call to make. Eh?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, bewildered.
He looked at me, grinning, half naked, with amused contempt, for quite a
long time, and at last offered sardonically to open my eyes for me.