Eric was silent and disgusted, but Wildney seemed quite at home. The man soon returned with the beer. "Wouldn't you like a glass of summat now, young gen'lmen?" he asked, in an insinuating way.
"No, Billy! don't jabber--we must be off. Here open the door."
"Stop, I'll pay," said Eric. "What's the damage?"
"Three shilling, sir," said the man. "Glad to see a new customer, sir." He pocketed the money, and showed them, out, standing to look after them with a malicious leer as they disappeared, and jerking his left thumb over his shoulder.
"Faugh!" said Eric, taking a long breath as they got out again into the moonlight, "what a poisonous place! Good gracious, Charlie, who introduced you there?"
"Oh, I don't think much of going there" said Wildney, carelessly; "we go every-week almost."
"We! who?"
"Oh, Brigson and a lot of us. We have a club there which we call the 'Anti-muffs,' and that's our smoking-room."
"And is that horrid beast the landlord?"
"Yes; he was an old school-servant, and there's no harm in him that I know of."