“Funny thing—just what I was goin’ to propose. What’s yours?”
“Sherry and Angostura,” said Dr Soames Pryce, impressively. “And I’ll have two flies in mine.”
Mandelbaum’s deep bass laughter rolled upwards from a widely-opened mouth.
“Golly!” exclaimed Lord Charles. His look betokened no shame but considerable curiosity. “You’re on it, of course; but, I say, how did you know?”
“When you smashed a glass on the face of that native boy you nearly cut his eye out—but you didn’t cut his tongue out.”
“Goot! Ver’ goot!” roared Mandelbaum.
“So you’ve been patchin’ his face up?” said Lord Charles. “I see. Well, it’s my mistake, ain’t it? But you’ll have a drink all the same.”
“The cheek of it! What, you dirty dog, you try to swindle me and then expect me to drink with you? Well, well, one mustn’t be too particular in Faloo, and you were born without any moral sense, Charles, and it may be Lord knows the last drink we’ll take together. But you’ll drink with me this time. Come on, Mandelbaum.”