The blacksmith did not care to take anything.

The chainmaker, pale and shivering, held in his pocket the gold chains he was going to deliver; and he coughed and asked them to excuse him, saying that the least drop of brandy would nearly make him split his sides.
"There are hypocrites for you!" grunted My-Boots.

"I bet they have their drinks on the sly." And when he had poked his nose in his glass he attacked Pere Colombe.
"Vile druggist, you've changed the bottle! You know it's no good your trying to palm your cheap stuff off on me." The day had advanced; a doubtful sort of light lit up l'Assommoir, where the landlord was turning out the gas.

Coupeau found excuses for his brother-in-law who could not stand drink, which after all was no crime.
He even approved Goujet's behavior for it was a real blessing never to be thirsty.

And as he talked of going off to his work Lantier, with his grand air of a gentleman, sharply gave him a lesson.