“Ah! he has a deal to grumble at. Wasted as good as three fortunes.”
“Woho, my lass! Steady there! Not wasted. Spent ’em like a noble English baronet, and he always had his money’s worth. Yes, we did.”
“We indeed! Wasted everything, he did, on the Turf, and then was sold up disgraceful. Just like a pore man might be.”
“Gently, my lass, gently!” cried Mark. “Sold up, and disgraceful? Nothing of the kind. The luck was again’ us, and we can’t quite meet our engagements; so we lets the things come to the hammer. Old Tat knocks ’em down to the highest bidder at High Park Corner, and we pays like gentlemen as far as the money goes. What more would you have till the luck turns and we pay up again?”
“Ah! you’re a nice pair. It was time you were both off the Turf. Neither of you ever cared.”
“Don’t say that, my lass. I cared a deal, and when I see my satin-skinned beauties knocked down—”
“Your what?”
“’Osses, my gal, ’osses—the tears quite come in my eyes.”
“I dessay,” said Jenny, tartly. “I believe you think much more of a horse than you ever did about me.”
“Nay, you don’t, Jenny. You know better. Man’s love for a hoss ain’t the same as what he feels for his sweetheart. You know that. But a chap of the right sort as understands ’osses can’t help loving the beautiful pets. I don’t mind yer laughing at me. I quite cried when our La Sylphide was knocked down and I had to say good-bye to her. I don’t know what I should ha’ done if I hadn’t known she was going into good quarters with someone who’d love her. All right! It’s gallus weak, I suppose, but I did, and you may laugh.”