"Shebronze, dealing from her jar thick syrupy liquor for his lips, looked as it flowed (flower in his coat: who gave him?), and syrupped with her voice:
- Fine goods in small parcels.
That is to say she. Neatly she poured slowsyrupy sloe.
- Here's fortune, Blazes said.
He pitched a broad coin down. Coin rang." (U11.365)