“Nothin', Tommy! I'm gettin' back, Tommy!”
“What you doin' with thot light?”
“Nothin', Tommy.”
Allen stood still. When Coglan came stamping unevenly to the door, he only made a quick shift of the lamp to his left hand, and thrust the other inside his coat till he felt the wooden handle of the chisel.
“Oi!” said Coglan.
His eyes seemed more prominent than ever, his face and neck heavier with the drink and sleep than was even natural. Allen looked at him with narrowed eyes.
“He's broke out,” Shays said, feebly deprecating. “He's goin' off,” and sat on the bed to pull on his shoes.
“Is he thot!” said Coglan.
Coglan turned back slowly into the shop. Shays shuffled after. Allen followed, too, with the lamp and said nothing, but put the lamp on the table. Coglan sat down, drank from the black bottle, and wiped his mouth. The first dim light of the morning was in the windows.
“I'll be getting along, Jimmy,” said Allen. “I'll take your razor.”