“Tobacco good?” he said,
“Tobacco? Yes, capital tobacco. Have a pipe?”
“Not now. I’ve brought a friend to see you.”
“Friend? Where is he?” said Barron, peering round through the smoke. “Ho, there! How do—how do? Have a pipe?”
Stratton made no reply, but gazed at the man in horror.
“Never been shot, I suppose?” said Barron suddenly.
Stratton started as if he had been stung.
“No, no,” said Brettison hastily. “My friend has never been shot.”
“Ho! pity. Can’t grasp it, then. You’ve never been shot either, but you do. Wonderful case mine, eh?”
“Yes, very,” said Brettison.