‘Well, Bag, what are you doing with yourself?’
‘Oh! I don’t know; just looking in for a lark. Any game?’
‘On my honour, I can’t say.’
‘What’s that girl? Oh! I see; that’s little Wilkins. There’s Moll Otway. Nothing new. I shall go and rattle the bones a little; eh! my boy?’
‘Rattle the bones? what is that?’
‘Don’t you know?’ and here this promising young peer manually explained his meaning.
‘What do you play at?’ asked the Duke.
‘Hazard, for my money; but what you like.’
‘Where?’
‘We meet at De Berghem’s. There is a jolly set of us. All crack men. When my governor is here, I never go. He is so jealous. I suppose there must be only one gamester in the family; eh! my covey?’ Lord Bagshot, excited by the unusual affability of the young Duke, grew quite familiar.