“Well, if I was you, sir, I’d put him in a cab and take him home.”
I stared at him in utter amazement.
“But do you mean to say,” I inquired, “that you aren’t going to take him in charge?”
“Oh, no need, sir,” he said, “seeing as you know the gentleman—not if you’ll put him into a cab and take him home.”
“But, my good man,” I said, “how can I do that? It’s a quarter past ten, and I’m going home to bed.”
“Well, we can’t leave him here,” said the constable, “or he’ll be getting into trouble. What about givin’ ’im a ’and to your own ’ouse, sir?”
“To my own house?” I cried. “A person in that condition?”
The constable pushed his helmet back and scratched his forehead.
“Well, it’d be doin’ ’im a good turn, sir,” he said, “seein’ as ’ow the gentleman’s a friend of yours.”
“On the contrary,” I said, “he’s neither a friend of mine, nor do I propose to condone his infamy.”