Mrs.Morel hated him most in this condition.
"You know what there is in the house," she said, so coldly, it sounded impersonal.
He stood and glared at her without moving a muscle.
"I asked a civil question, and I expect a civil answer," he said affectedly.
"And you got it," she said, still ignoring him.
He glowered again.

Then he came unsteadily forward.

He leaned on the table with one hand, and with the other jerked at the table drawer to get a knife to cut bread.

The drawer stuck because he pulled sideways.
In a temper he dragged it, so that it flew out bodily, and spoons, forks, knives, a hundred metallic things, splashed with a clatter and a clang upon the brick floor.

The baby gave a little convulsed start.
"What are you doing, clumsy, drunken fool ?" the mother cried.
"Then tha should get the flamin' thing thysen.