Tuppy looked at him suspiciously.
"Where is Tooting Bec and that sort of thing?" he demanded.
"Near Wandsworth Prison," began Bolt.
"What! Then I won't go—I won't go, Bolt." Tuppy was considerably agitated. "It's a rotten idea; a house rent free, d'ye see, Bolt? it's this demmed Tanneur person's gentle hint ... a paltry matter of three hundred pounds"—he paced the room furiously—"that's the scheme—the dowager is behind all this—oh woman, woman!"
He apostrophized the ceiling.
"Better finish the letter, m'lord."
"Chuck it in the fire, Bolt; chuck it in!"
Bolt quickly skimmed the letter and mastered its contents.
"It's in Brockley, m'lord," he said quickly.
"Chuck it in the fire—where's Brockley."