Things would go right , they always did …..
Or would they , he had always worried a little on the inside , ever since the old man had popped his clogs he'd been running the place. The creature respected him , but not in the same way it did the old man .
He worried about the war , about the boy , about his duty. Could he cut the mustard , he'd have to wait and see.
For now the whisky would be his friend. Since his so called 'best friend' Penwood was currently screaming at his …..'company'.
So he liked the ladies , that was never a bad thing was it ?
Another worry ,another glass.
He hated Mondays .
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Now this may not seem like in-characterization for Arthur but based on a few of his lines in chapter two he seems quite a distraught man. 'I've been serious for five years , now I need this whiskey to keep my strength up' that type of man definitely has to worry occasionally.