Harry’s teeth gritted slightly, but he relapsed into his former semi-cataleptic state, as if forced to listen, and unable to move.
“I like Leslie,” said Vine sadly.
“So do I. At least, I don’t dislike him so much as I do some folks. Now if he had been there, he’d have behaved better than you did, Master Harry.”
“Uncle, dear, don’t be so hard on poor Harry.”
“Poor Harry! Good job he is poor. What’s the good of being rich for thieves to break through and steal?”
“Ah! what indeed!” said his brother sadly.
“Look at Van Heldre, knocked on the head and going to die.”
“Uncle!”
“Well, I dare say he will, and be at rest. Knocked on the head, and robbed of five hundred pounds. My money, every penny.”
“Yours, Luke?” said his brother, pointing at him with the glass rod.