“Then you’re a beast. Get out of my sight before I half kill you!”
“Have a puff.”
“Take them away, you thieving scoundrel!” cried Archy, who was half mad with disappointment. “You come here professing to be civil, and yet you won’t help me.”
“Can’t.”
“You can, sir.”
“And you wouldn’t like me if I did.”
“Yes, I should, and I never could be grateful enough.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’d know I was a sneak and a traitor, as you call it, to father and all our chaps, and you’d never like me.”
“Like you! I tell you I should consider you my best friend.”
“Not you. I know better than that. Have a puff.”