There was another murmur of professional agreement.
“What would you have it, Wilson?”
“Vour-an’-twenty, Sir Lothian.”
“Have you any objection, Sir Charles?”
“Not the slightest.”
“Anything else, Wilson?”
“If you please, zir, I’d like to know whom I’m vighting with.”
“I understand that you have not publicly nominated your man, Sir Charles?”
“I do not intend to do so until the very morning of the fight. I believe I have that right within the terms of our wager.”
“Certainly, if you choose to exercise it.”