"You no more toss with me, I have done with you; you too sharp for me."
"What! are you going to cut me? Are you going to warn me off your restaurant?"
Roars of laughter followed, and the lions of song gazed in admiration on the lord.
"I may be hard up," cried the lord; "but I'm damned if I ever look hard up; do I, Lubi?"
"Since you turn up head when you like, why should you look hard up?"
"You want us to believe you are a 'mug,' Lubi, that's about it, but it won't do. 'Mugs' are rare nowadays. I don't know where to go and look for them…. I say, Lubi," and he whispered something in the restaurateur's ear, "if you know of any knocking about, bring them down to my place; you shall stand in."
"Damn me! You take me for a pump, do you? You get out!"
The genial lord roared the more, and assured Lubi he meant "mugs," and offered to toss him for a sovereign.
"How jolly this is!" said Mike. "I'm dying for a gamble; I feel as if I could play as I never played before. I have all the cards in my mind's eye. By George! I wish I could get hold of a 'mug,' I'd fleece him to the tune of five hundred before he knew where he was. But look at that woman! She's not bad."
"A great coarse creature like that! I never could understand you….
Have you heard of Lily Young lately?"