“Yes, I’d like to clear off for a bit from this kennel.”
“What kennel?”
“This kennel—London. Do you go the length of denying that London’s a kennel?”
“I don’t do anything of the sort.”
“You’d best not. I was thinking if a run to Australia, or California, or Timbuctoo would not be healthy just now.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, I made up my mind yesterday, that if I don’t have better hands soon, I’ll chuck up the whole game. That’s the sort of new potatoes that I am.”
“The Legitimate?”
“The Legitimate be frizzled! Am I to continue paying for the suppers that other tarty chips eat? That’s what I want you to tell me. You know what a square deal is, Wynne, as well as most people.”
“I believe I do.”