“Hum,” said Retort very superciliously—“Gilbey’s, eh?”
“Now, I do call that shabby,” I said, “to sneer at a fellow because he frankly offers you a cheap glass, and isn’t above owning to it. Now, if you had dined with old Blunkarn, he’d have given you a worse glass, and vowed it was ’20 port.”
“But how did you get on at the sale?” said Retort hastily, so as to change the subject.
“Rascally!” I exclaimed, firing up. “Those confounded Jews!”
“Wasn’t it scandalous,” said Retort.
“The most iniquitous affair I ever saw!” I exclaimed.
“The scoundrels ought to be indicted for conspiracy,” said my friend.
“I’ll show them up, my boy,” I said. “I’ll send columns to the papers if they’ll only put them in.”
“Ah, do,” said my companion. “Now, you see, I bid for a thing or two.”
“You,” I said; “why, what for? Bachelor in lodgings?”