“Because,” said Distin, with almost a groan, “I’m not fit. My hands are not clean.”
“Wash ’em then, or never mind.”
“You know what I mean,” said Distin. “What they said was true.”
Vane stared at him in astonishment.
“Yes, it’s quite true,” said Distin, bitterly. “I’ve behaved like a blackguard.”
Just at that moment, the top gipsy began to struggle, and Vane gave him a tremendous clout on the ear.
“Lie still or I’ll knock your head off,” he cried, fiercely.
“You don’t mean to say you set these two brutes to knock me about with sticks?”
“Yes, he did,” cried the top boy.
“Yes, I did,” said Distin, after making an effort as if to swallow something. “I paid them, and they have pestered me for money ever since. They sent to me to-day to come out to them, and I gave them more, but they were not satisfied and were knocking me about when you came.”