“But what do you do it for?”
“What do we do it for? We do it to pass the time and the glass, young sir. Not as I should like you to think as I ever drank, Mr Edwin. One quart of ale I take every night, and have ever done; no more, no less.”
“But”—Edwin’s rapid, breaking voice interrupted eagerly the deep majestic tones—“aren’t you tired the next day? I should be!”
“Never,” said Big James. “I get up from my bed as fresh as a daisy at six sharp. And I’ve known the nights when my bed ne’er saw me.”
“You must be strong, Mr Yarlett, my word!” Edwin exclaimed. These revelations of the habits and prowess of Big James astounded him. He had never suspected that such things went on in the town.
“Aye! Middling!”
“I suppose it’s a free-and-easy at the Dragon, to-night, Mr Yarlett?”
“In a manner of speaking,” said Big James.
“I wish I could stay for it.”
“And why not?” Big James suggested, and looked down at Edwin with half-humorous incertitude.