Quinney acknowledged this salutation with a derisive grin.
"Mornin', Mr. Chesty! Bin usin' a Sandow's exerciser?"
"No, sir; Indian clubs. Am I to state my case before Mr. Tomlin?"
"Yes. Go ahead and state it. Don't waste my time, or his, or your own."
James addressed himself suavely to Tomlin, selecting his words carefully, speaking slowly, with the utmost respect.
"Last night, Mr. Quinney threatened to turn his daughter into the street, because she's engaged to be married to me."
"My hand was forced, my lad. Go on."
"I can support a wife, and Miss Quinney is ready to marry me by special licence this afternoon."
"Quite sure o' that?"
"Ab—solutely. Unhappily, I'm not yet in a financial position to support two ladies."