But unfortunately, Brummer took my evident unwillingness to pay up as an offensive mark of patronage.
"We don't want none of your blooming charity here," he said. "'Oo the something, something are you, to come 'ere crowing over us? If you win a rubber in this 'ere club, you fork out same as if you was playing with the nobs."
"Oh, yes, Howard," said Lord Charles, "you needn't be shy. Brummer don't mind taking it a bit. Why, it's a fleabite to him. He's got a hundred thousand sitting on his chest at home."
"But I tell you I haven't got it," I said. "I've only got about fifteen pounds in the world."
"Well, then, what do you want to come poking yourself in 'ere for in that rig out?" enquired Brummer with more oaths. "We ain't a wild beast show, are we? I thought there was something fishy about you when Perry first brought you in."
"What's this? What's this?" exclaimed a voice at my elbow. "I say, Brummer, my man, don't forget yourself, you know. No language! It's one of the rules of the club, to which we have all subscribed."
I looked round to see standing behind me an athletic-looking young man in the dress of a curate.[21]
"Ah, Thompson!" said Lord Charles. "Come to see we're all behaving ourselves, eh? It's all right. Brummer was just going to write out a U. O. Me to give to Mr. Howard. Here's a fountain pen, Brummer. You can write it on the back of the score."
Brummer scrawled "U. O. Me £234" and signed his name to it in an execrable fist, and I put it in my pocket, wondering what I was to do about it. Then Brummer and the stockbroker got up and left the table.