He tucked it under his arm and lurched into the street.
Now, Dad could run when he couldn't walk.

He swayed a little, then suddenly broke into a run whose speed kept him from falling and preserved his balance like a spinning top.
The Duchess, seen through a haze, seemed unusually stern tonight; but with beery pride he produced his little present, the mail-clad delicacy, the armoured crustacean.

But Dicky Freeman, offended by Dad's sudden departure in the middle of the story, had taken a mean revenge with the aid of the barman, and, as Dad unfastened the wrapping, there appeared, not the shellfish in its vermilion armour, but something smooth and black--an empty beer-bottle! Dad stared and blinked.

A look at the Duchess revealed a face like the Ten Commandments.

The situation was too abject for words; he grinned vacantly and licked his lips.
The Grimes family lived in the third house in the terrace, counting from the lamp-post at the corner of Buckland Street, where, running parallel to Cardigan Street, it tumbles over the hill and is lost to sight on its way to Botany Road.