“Eight quid;” then, rousing himself a little and showing some emotion, “An’ I could ’a’ got ten quid for her if I hadn’t been a dam’ fool.”
“Oh, that’s good enough,” said Bill.
“I could ’a’ got ten quid if I’d ’a’ waited.”
“Well, it’s no use cryin’. Eight quid is good enough. Did you get the stuff?”
“Oh, yes. They parted all right. If I hadn’t been such a dam’ fool an’ rushed it, there was a feller that would ’a’ given ten quid for that mare.”
“Well, don’t break yer back about it,” said Bill. “Eight is good enough.”
“Yes. But I could ’a’ got ten,” said Jim, languidly, putting his hand in his pocket.
Pause. Bill sat waiting for him to hand over the money; but Jim withdrew his hand empty, stretched, and said:
“Ah, well, Bill, I done it in. Lend us a couple o’ notes.”
Jim had been drinking and gambling all night and he’d lost the eight pounds as well as his own money.