Captain Thicknesse (to Spurrell). Sure to have turned up, you know—man will have seen that. Shouldn't altogether object to a glass of sherry and bitters before dinner. Don't know how you feel—suppose you've a soul above sherry and bitters, though?
Spurrell. Not at this moment. But I'd soon put my soul above a sherry and bitters if I got a chance!
Captain Thicknesse (after reflection). I say, you know, that's rather smart, eh? (To himself.) Aw'fly clever sort of chap, this, but not stuck up—not half a bad sort, if he is a bit of a bounder. (Aloud.) Anythin' in the evenin' paper? Don't get 'em down here.
"I SAY, YOU KNOW, THAT'S RATHER SMART, EH?"
Spurrell. Nothing much. I see there's an objection to Monkey-tricks.
Captain Thicknesse (startled). No, by Jove! Hope they'll overrule it—make a lot of difference to me if they don't.
Spurrell. Don't fancy there's much in it. Your money's safe enough, I expect. Have you any particular fancy for the Grand National? I know something that's safe to win, bar accidents—a dead cert, sir! Got the tip straight from the stable. You just take my advice, and pile all you can on Jumping Joan.
Captain Thicknesse (later, to himself, after a long and highly interesting conversation). Thunderin' clever chap—never knew poets were such clever chaps. Might be a "bookie," by Gad! No wonder Maisie thinks such a lot of him!
[He sighs.