“Quite right,” said Sir Richard.
“Oh, I knowed it, bless your heart! “That there gentry-cove would peel remarkably well,” I says to myself. “And a handy bunch of fives he’s got.” Never you fret, guv’nor: Jimmy Yarde’s no green “un. What snabbles me, though, is how you come to be travelling in the common rumble.”
Sir Richard gave a soft laugh suddenly. “You see, I have lost all my money,” he said.
“Lost all your money?” repeated Jimmy, astonished.
“On “Change,” added Sir Richard.
The light, sharp eyes flickered over his elegant person. “Ah, you’re trying to gammon me! What’s the lay?”
“None at all.”
“Dang me if I ever met such a cursed rum touch!” A suspicion crossed his mind. “You ain’t killed your man, guv’nor?”
“No. Have you?”
Jimmy looked quite alarmed. “Not me, guv’nor, not me! I don’t hold with violence, any gait.”