“Oh, goin’ to do the respectable, eh?” said Cooney, with a very low whistle. “That’s yer game, is it?”
“Yes, I am at work now at my old business, and to that I intend to stick. No more night work for me—it’s a deal too risky.”
“Vell, perhaps you are right. But I say, old boy, can you spare another quid?”
“Yes, provided you leave the town and don’t bother me any more.”
“Oh, ye’ve no call to be afeard. I aint a-goin’ to stay in this here place—not if I know it.”
“Good—then here’s the other.”
“Thanks—you’re a good fellow Charlie, arter all, but I ’spose yer’ll be glad to get shut o’ me—eh? Here the speaker winked his eye.
“Well, you see we are on a different lay now.”
“Right yer are, old man. Vell, there, I aint a-goin’ to bother yer; so make yer mind easy on that score, but the old un, Charlie, it’s duced hard lines wi’ him.”
“Ah, he’s charged with murder—is he not?”