'Anything t' give pain,' he reflected.

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'Drive Shcotlan' Yard,' he added aloud, holding to the wheel to steady himself; 'there's something devilish fishy, cabby, about those cousins.
Mush' be cleared up! Drive Shcotlan' Yard.' 'You don't mean that, sir,' said the man, with the ready sympathy of the lower orders for an intoxicated gentleman.

'I had better take you home, sir; you can go to Scotland Yard tomorrow.' 'Is it as friend or as perfessional man you advise me not to go Shcotlan' Yard t'night ?' enquired Michael.