Jaggers at his best never looked more self-righteous than Monkey Brand as he made reply:
"I couldn't let you into his loose-box, Mr. Joses," he said quietly. "Wouldn't be right. Only the door'll be on the latch, and if you choose to come in—why, who's to stop you?"
"Right," laughed the other. "I'm an artist, I am, as you may recall. I'd like to paint you in your sleep. Study of Innocence I should call it."
He dropped away into the darkness.
A whistle stopped him.
The little jockey was limping after him.
"Say to-night," he said.
"No," said the fat man. "To-morrow night. Sunday night. That's the night for good deeds."
At ten that night Jim Silver escorted Boy Woodburn across the yard to the foot of the ladder.