The two friends quaffed off glass after glass, with as much gusto as if they had only just commenced a night’s carouse; and then each crossing their legs in an indolent and careless manner, remained silent for a short time. The sleepers were snoring in concert, and did not seem likely to awake for some time, but to monopolize the coffee-room for a chamber, for that day at least.
After the lapse of a short interval, Maretzo looked up with an expression of countenance, half solemn, and half humorous, and, addressing himself to Kay, says:
‘Kay, my boy!’
‘Well, my dear fellow,’ said Kay.
‘I have been thinking, Kay.’
‘And what have you been thinking?’ interrogated his dissipated companion.
‘Why, that we have been a pair of d—d scoundrels!’
‘Ha! ha! ha! what a discovery!—why, I have known and felt that long ago, Maretzo,’ returned Kay.
‘We have taken that which did not belong to us,’ added Maretzo, ‘and borrowed that which we never repaid.’
‘And never meant to repay;’ observed Kay, with a laugh.