“Let’s look at the thing,” said he eagerly.
Gomme caught his arm and kept him off it:
“Careful, Noll!” he gasped anxiously—“gently! or we shan’t get it back into its folds.”
He put it away carefully, locked it up, and, sitting back in his chair, he added gravely:
“Now, Noll, as one who has knowledge of the usages of polite society——”
“Eh?” said Noll.
Gomme touched him on the shoulder nervously.
“No, no, Noll—I’m not accusing you of practising them. But as one born within the pale of good society—from no fault of your own, I admit—ought one to put scent on the coat?”
Noll whistled:
“Je—hoshaphat!” said he, “I never noticed.” He pushed his hat back on his head, thrust his hands deep into his breeches pockets, and fixed a searching eye on experience: “I’m not sure. N-no—I don’t think so. The governor doesn’t.”