“Aye, that ’e is. Matter o’ nigh on six feet from the top of his ’ead down; when he ’olds ’is ’ead up, that is.”
“Ah, stoops a bit, does he?”
“Well, you might call it that, sir. ’Angs ’is ’ead, in a manner of speakin’. You know ’ow they do.”
“Oh, yes; quite. Strong chap, too, isn’t he?”
“’E is, an’ all. It ’ud take all of six men to ’old him, if ’e did get rampageous.”
“Pretty quiet usually, then, is he?”
“Oh, aye. ’E’s quiet enough.”
“But no fool, I gather. I mean, he’s pretty intelligent, isn’t he?”
The landlord chuckled hoarsely. “Lor’ bless you, no. Prince ain’t no fool. ’E’s a clever devil, all right. Cunning, you might call ’im. Nor you wouldn’t be far wrong, neither.”
“Oh? In what way?”