"None the worse!" said he, reflectively. "Oh, no. That's the way your quality talk about a few bank-notes. Nothing but a hundred pounds the worst. Oh, no."
"You don't mean it?" said Mr. Potts, making his eyes as round as two sixpences.
"Well, to be sure," said Salter, "I can't take my davy on it; 'cause as how I've only his word for it. But he don't look like a cony-catcher, do he? He's a deal too green for that, I can tell you. Well, he is green!" repeated Jim, bursting into a quiet chuckle.
"I don't mean he's a fool, neither. There's a vasty heap o' difference betwixt a leek in yer eye and a turnip in yer brain-box. Ain't there now, guv'nor?"
"You don't mean it?" said Mr. Potts, staring more than ever.
"What don't I mean, Mr. Potts?"
"You don't mean that that 'ere chap? What do you mean about them hundred pounds?"
"Now I'll tell 'ee, guv'nor. It's a great pleasure to me to find I can tell a story so well."
"There you are—off again, no mortal man can tell to where. You ain't told me no story yet."
"Ain't I? How came it then, guv'nor, that I ha' made you forget your usual 'ospitable manners? If I hadn't ha' been telling you a story, you'd ha'—I know you'd ha' asked me to put a name upon something long ago."