Vincent. Oh, if one was bothering all the time about other people's troubles, you'd have enough to do!
Thérèse. Now will you forgive me if I meddle a little in what isn't exactly my business?
Vincent. Oh, go on, you won't upset me.
Thérèse. What d'you do when you leave the works? You go to the saloon?
Vincent [losing control of himself and becoming violent and coarse] That's yer game, is it! You take me for a regler soaker. That's a bit too thick, that is. You can go and ask for yourself in all the saloons round here. Blimey, sometimes I don't drink nothing but water for a week on end! Can you find anybody as has ever seen me blue-blind-paralytic—eh? I'm one of the steady ones, I am. I has a tiddley in the morning, like every man as is a man, to keep out the fog; then I has a Vermouth before lunch, and a drop of something short after, just to oil the works like—and that's the bloomin' lot. Of course you're bound to have a Pernod before dinner to get your appetite up; and if I go for a smoke and a wet after supper, well, it's for the sake of a bit of company.
Thérèse [who has been jotting down figures with a pencil while he has been talking] Well, that's a franc a day you might have saved.
Vincent. A franc.
Thérèse [holding out the paper to him] Add it up.
Vincent [a little confused] Oh, I'll take your word for it. I ain't much good at sums.
Thérèse. With that franc you might have put a fine lot of butter on every round of bread.