Kabnis (sleepily and still more or less intoxicated): Whats th big idea? What in hell—
Halsey: Work. But never you mind about that. Up with you.
Cora: Oooooo! Look here, mister, I aint used t bein thrown int th street befo day.
Stella: Any bunk whats worked is worth in wages moren this. But come on. Taint no use t arger.
Kabnis: I’ll arger. Its preposterous—
The girls interrupt him with none too pleasant laughs.
Kabnis: Thats what I said. Know what it means, dont y? All right, then. I said its preposterous t root an artist out o bed at this ungodly hour, when there aint no use t it. You can start your damned old work. Nobody’s stoppin y. But what we got t get up for? Fraid somebody’ll see th girls leavin? Some sport, you are. I hand it t y.
Halsey: Up you get, all th same.
Kabnis: Oh, th hell you say.
Halsey: Well, son, seeing that I’m th kind-hearted father, I’ll give y chance t open your eyes. But up y get when I come down.