Cis.
Yes, Guv. And I forbid you to eat any of those devilled oysters we shall get at the Hotel des Princes. Now you’re right!
Mr. Posket.
I am not right!
Cis.
Oh, I forgot! [He pulls out a handful of loose money.] I found this money in your desk, Guv. You had better take it out with you; you may want it. Here you are—gold, silver, and coppers. [He empties the money into Mr. Posket’s overcoat pocket.] One last precaution, and then we’re off.
[Goes to the writing-table, and writes on a half-sheet of note-paper.
Mr. Posket.
I shall take a turn round the Square, and then come home again! I will not be influenced by a mere child! A man of my responsible position—a magistrate—supping slily at the Hotel des Princes, in Meek Street—it’s horrible.