The Duke laughed. “Come, we begun to understand one another better! You may as well own, sir, that your object is to squeeze money from my noble relative, no matter on what pretext.”
“Between these four walls, Mr. Ware,” said Liversedge cheerfully. “Between these four walls!”
“How much it must disgust a man of your sensibility to be reduced to such straits!” observed the Duke.
Liversedge sighed. “It does, sir. In fact, it is quite out of my line.”
“What is your line?” enquired the Duke curiously.
Mr. Liversedge waved an airy hand. “Cards, sir, cards! I flatter myself I had established myself with every prospect of success. But Fate singled me out to be the object of vile persecution, Mr. Ware. I am—temporarily, of course—without the means to re-establish myself suitably, and you see me forced to eke out a miserable existence in surroundings which, I am persuaded, you will easily descry to be, totally unfitting for any man of gentility. You, Mr. Ware, who are putting up, I make no doubt, in the comfort of the George—an excellent hostelry!—can have little notion—”
“No, no, above my touch!” murmured the Duke demurely. “The White Horse!”
“The White Horse,” said Mr. Liversedge feelingly, “may not aspire to the elegance of the George, but compared with this hovel in which I am compelled to sojourn, Mr. Ware, it is a palace!”
The Duke did not deny it, and after a slight pause during which Mr. Liversedge appeared to dwell longingly on the amenities afforded by post-inns, that worthy gentleman heaved a sigh, and continued in a more optimistic tone: “However, I do not complain. Life, Mr. Ware, is full of vicissitudes! Let me but once come about, and I do not despair of finding just the locality for the opening of a house where gentlemen with a taste for play may be sure of finding entertainment. In all modesty, Mr. Ware, I will say that I have a talent above the ordinary for such enterprises. If ever I should have the happiness to welcome you to any house under my direction, I fancy you will be pleased with, what you will find. Nothing shoddy, I assure you, and admittance by password only. I shall pay particular attention to the quality of the wine in my cellar: nothing could be more fatal to the success of such a venture than to fob off one’s patrons with inferior wine! But to achieve my object, sir, I must have Substance. Without Substance the result, if any, must be shabby, and, as such, too far beneath me to be considered.”
“You are frank!” said the Duke. “My cousin Sale, in fact, is to set you up in some gaming-hell!”