whatever you call it; tell him to stop smoking, in short, and I will turn in with him. But I don't fancy having a man smoking in bed with me. It's dangerous. Besides, I ain't insured." This being told to Queequeg, he at once complied, and again politely motioned me to get into bed--rolling over to one side as much as to say--"I won't touch a leg of ye." "Good night, landlord," said I, "you may go." I turned in, and never slept better in my life. CHAPTER 4. The Counterpane.
Page annotations:
Add a page annotation: