"Come in and welcome," answered Humphrey. "I hope I see you pretty middling?"
"Yes, well enough for that matter. And you?"
"Never better. 'Tis wonnerful how the rheumatics be holding off—along of lemons. You might stare, but 'tis a flame-new remedy of doctor's. Lemon juice—pints of it."
"Should have reckoned there was enough lemon in your nature without adding to it."
"Enough and to spare. Yet you needn't rub that home to-day. I've heard a thing that's very much pleased me, I may tell you. Last news such a cranky and uncomfortable man as me might have expected."
"Wish I could hear summat that would please me, I'm sure," said Jack. "But all that ever I hear of nowadays is other people's good luck. And there's nothing more damned uninteresting after a bit. Not that I grudge t'others——"
"Of course you don't—not with your high opinions. You've said to me a score of times that there's no justice in the world, therefore 'tis no use your fretting about not getting any. We must take things as we find them."
"And what's your luck, then? More money rolling in, I suppose?"
"My luck—so to call it—mightn't look over large to another. 'Tis that my nephew Rupert and his wife want for me to be godfather to their babe. The child will be called after me, and I'm to stand godfather; and I'll confess to you, in secret, that I'm a good deal pleased about it."
Jack sniffed and spat into the fire. He took a pipe out of his pocket, stuffed it, and lighted it before he answered.