"Pretty well every time. What do you say to a little game of billiards?"
"Where?" said Jack.
"Nice little 'ouse near 'ere, I know."
"No fear! That's clean against the rules. Besides, who wants to knock balls about with a sticky cue on a torn billiard cloth, where the whole place reeks of beer and stale tobacco? No, thanks!"
"Young gents used not to set so much store by rules when I was a lad."
"We've changed since then, Raffles," said Jack, drily.
"A little shooting?"
"What?"
"Sparrers?" suggested Raffles, off-hand.
"Rot!"