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(Belching.) Where’s the bloody house?

Purdon street. Shilling a bottle of stout. Respectable woman.

(Gripping the two redcoats, staggers forward with them.) Come on, you British army!

(Behind his back.) He aint half balmy.

(Laughs.) What ho!

(To the navvy.) Portobello barracks canteen. You ask for Carr. Just Carr.

(Shouts.)

Say! What price the sergeantmajor?