"That is, unless you'd rather
defer the whole story for the magistrate's ear."
"The whole story?" He chuckled. "I'd like to see the Beak's face.
. . . No, I couldn't possibly. My good Otty, how many people d'you
reckon it would compromise?"
"You've compromised Farrell pretty thoroughly, anyhow," said I
grimly: "and you've compromised the cause in which I happen to be
interested. Has it occurred to you, my considerate young friend,
that Farrell has receded to 1000 to 1 in the betting?--that, in
short, you've lost us the seat?"
"_I_ compromise Farrell?"--Jimmy sat up and exclaimed it indignantly.
"_I_ lose you his silly seat? . . . Rats! The little bounder
compromised himself! He's been doing it freely--doing it since ten
o'clock--two crowded hours of glorious life . . . 'stonishing, Otty,
what a variegated ass a man can make of himself nowadays in two short
hours, with the help of a taxi and if he wastes no time. When I
think of our simple grandfathers playing at Bloods, wrenching off
door-knockers. . . . Oh, yes--but you're waiting for the story.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110