Tear off the window boards and give him some more air.

You can move him to another room in the morning." Hunch obeyed, and presently as the street door slammed behind his chief, Hunch's single eye roved expectantly to the forgotten whiskey on the table.

Jokai lay in a motionless stupor by the window.

It would be morning before the hapless drinker would be quite himself again.
With brutal, powerful arms, Hunch bore his charge to an adjoining room and consigned him disrespectfully to a bed.

Then with a fresh bottle of whiskey in his hand, he returned to the open window, leered pleasantly at the dizzy glare of city lights beyond and henceforth devoted himself to getting very drunk.