I'm not half done with you yet, my friend.' 'Well said, my boy, well said! Go straight to Carver's, mind you.

The other sleepy heads be snoring, as there is nothing up to-night.

No dallying now under Captain's window.

Queen will have nought to say to you; and Carver will punch your head into a new wick for your lanthorn.' 'Will he though?
Two can play at that.' And so after some rude jests, and laughter, and a few more oaths, I heard Charlie (or at any rate somebody) coming toward me, with a loose and not too sober footfall.

As he reeled a little in his gait, and I would not move from his way one inch, after his talk of Lorna, but only longed to grasp him (if common sense permitted it), his braided coat came against my thumb, and his leathern gaiters brushed my knee.