"Clara, get him a bottle of stout." He protested, but Mrs.Radford insisted.
"You look as if you could do with it," she said.

"Haven't you never any more colour than that ?" "It's only a thick skin I've got that doesn't show the blood through," he answered.
Clara, ashamed and chagrined, brought him a bottle of stout and a glass.
He poured out some of the black stuff.
"Well," he said, lifting the glass, "here's health!" "And thank you," said Mrs.Radford.
He took a drink of stout.
"And light yourself a cigarette, so long as you don't set the house on fire," said Mrs.Radford.
"Thank you," he replied.
"Nay, you needn't thank me," she answered.

"I s'll be glad to smell a bit of smoke in th' 'ouse again.

A house o' women is as dead as a house wi' no fire, to my thinkin'.

I'm not a spider as likes a corner to myself.