He was awake now, and he had coughed up the last thing he had eaten, the Standard of the Eighth Legion, with its pathetic ribbons still flying bravely.
" If you can cough any trifle on it up, Pip, I'd recommend you to do it, " said Joe, all aghast. " Manners is manners, but still your elth's your elth" .
Davos coughed, spat, and coughed again. " I saw Black Betha burning, and Fury as well, " he finally managed, hoarsely. " Did none of our ships escape the fire" ? Part of him still hoped.