“What, for a gent like you, sir?” said Sam Jenkles.
“No, no—I’m no gentleman,” said Richard, bitterly; “only a poor man. I want cheap rooms.”
“Really, sir?” said Sam, rubbing his nose viciously.
“Yes, really, my man. Can you tell me of any?”
“You jump in, sir, and I’ll run you up home in no time.”
“But I—”
“My missus knows everybody ’bout us as has rooms to let—quiet lodgings, you know, sir; six bob a week style—cheap.”
“No, no; give me your address, and I’ll walk.”
“No you don’t, sir, along o’ that portmanter. Now, I do wonder at a gent like you being so obstinit.”
Richard still hesitated; but it was an opportunity not to be lost, and, before he had time to thoroughly make up his mind, Sam had hoisted the portmanteau on the roof, afterwards holding open the flap of the cab.