“I suppose not; you’re so useful to him in his business, I suppose?”
“Pooty well, sir.”
Max tried another tack.
“Master look well, John?”
“Lovely, sir!” cried the boy. “He’s a regular swell now.”
“Is he, though?”
“Tip-top, sir; never puts on a shirt twice, and wears three pairs o’ boots every day—shiny leather ones.”
“Does he, though?” said Max, drawing nearer to the boy. “And so he wouldn’t like to part with you?”
“Oh no, sir. I goes to the City with him every day—on the broom sometimes.”
“He keeps a brougham, then?”