I promise you faithfully that your wife shan't be served with drink here." "I'm glad to 'ear it," said Jonah; "an' now yer better 'elp me ter git 'er 'ome." He looked round the room.

There were only himself, Cassidy, and Ada.
Mrs Herring, who had been paralysed by the sight of the devil in the shape of a hunchback, had found herself on the footpath, sober as a judge, without very well knowing how she got there.
Ada, stupefied with brandy, and tired over the long conversation, had fallen asleep on the table.

Jonah went to the door and called Joe, who was listening dismally to the hum of voices raised in argument and the pleasant clink of glasses in the bar, now filled with workmen carrying their bags of tools, their faces covered with the sweat and grime of the day.
"Fetch me a cab, Smacker," he said.

"My wife's been taken ill.

She fainted in the street, and they brought her here to recover." "Right y'are, boss," cried Joe.