I'm sorry he ain't here, gents.

He's bound to be somewheres, and I'm sure it's no offence meant, his going away.

I likes your style, and I hopes that young fly-by-night who says my Alf's a thief will tell him so to his face.

My Alf'll settle him proper.

Them as pays for my Alf's schooling--which it's two kind ladies, masters, as my missus was kinder foster-sister to--means to make a gent of my Alf.