Explore "The Constable's Move" by W.W. Jacobs on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched on the fender. His wife's half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
"Come away, I tell you," he called. "D'ye hear? Come away. You'll be locked up if you don't."