Algernon pressed him; saying at last, “Well, have you got one?”
“I don't think I've been such a fool,” said Anthony, feeling slowly about his person, and muttering as to the changes that might possibly have been produced in him by the Docks.
“Confound it, I haven't dined!” exclaimed Algernon, to hasten his proceedings; but at this, Anthony eyed him queerly. “What have you been about then, sir?”
“Don't you see I'm in evening dress? I had an appointment to dine with a friend. He didn't keep it. I find I've left my purse in my other clothes.”
“That's a bad habit, sir,” was Anthony's comment. “You don't care much for your purse.”
“Much for my purse, be hanged!” interjected Algernon.
“You'd have felt it, or you'd have heard it, if there 'd been any weight in it,” Anthony remarked.
“How can you hear paper?”
“Oh, paper's another thing. You keep paper in your mind, don't you—eh? Forget pound notes? Leave pound notes in a purse? And you Sir William's nephew, sir, who'd let you bank with him and put down everything in a book, so that you couldn't forget, or if you did, he'd remember for you; and you might change your clothes as often as not, and no fear of your losing a penny.”
Algernon shrugged disgustedly, and was giving the old man up as a bad business, when Anthony altered his manner. “Oh! well, sir, I don't mind letting you have what I've got. I'm out for fun. Bother affairs!”