'Only, I say, Lance, have you any tin?'
'Not the valley of a brass farthing!' (The last pence of the Vale Leston sovereign had gone into Stella's jam.)
'Wouldn't Felix give you some?'
'I don't know.' (Very gruffly.)
'I wish you'd ask.'
'You have as many tongues as I.'
'Well, you see Felix is not half a bad fellow for one's governor, but he doesn't know what's what; and Sims says he'll go to him if I don't come down with something before to-morrow.'
'Sims! Sims in Smoke-jack Alley? Is that your sort?' demanded Lance, in ineffable disgust.
'He's been keeping a dog for me,' said Bernard sulkily.
'A dog!' Lance sat up in astonishment immeasurable.