"Don't 'it me, sir!" she whined.

"Don't 'it me!" He was frightened at himself, and waited till he could gather control.
"Now," he said, calmly, "get into your things and go.

All of you.
Clear out.

Vamose." "You're no man, you ain't," the Virgin snarled, discovering that physical assault was not imminent.
But Corliss herded her particularly to the door, and gave no heed.
"A-turning ladies out!" she sniffed, with a stumble over the threshold; "No offence," Jake Cornell muttered, pacifically; "no offence." "Good-night.

Sorry," Corliss said to Blanche, with the shadow of a forgiving smile, as she passed out.
"You're a toff! That's wot you are, a bloomin' toff!" the Virgin howled back as he shut the door.
He looked blankly at Del Bishop and surveyed the sodden confusion on the table.