“Thanks, I hope I shan’t do either, Mr. Duke.” He took his hat and stick.
“Not Duke, old man. Flippance, Anthony Flippance, universally docked to Tony Flip. Duke only goes with the Marionettes. I bought ’em lock, stock, and barrel—-the oldest circuit in East Anglia, and the name going well with the crowned heads.”
“But there are no crowned heads in America,” said Will, smiling.
“Pardon me, sonny,” contradicted Mr. Flippance.
“But I’ve just come from there,” said Will crushingly.
“And how about the Emperor of Brazil?”
“Oh!” said Will blankly. He seemed really to have heard of this personage. Then recovering, he said: “But have you played before him?”
“That’s not my affair,” said Mr. Flippance. “It ain’t my responsibility what Duke’s done or left undone—if Duke was his name, which I take leave to question. ’Twixt you and I, I doubt if it would pay to work Brazil. But, as I said, I bought it as a going concern, lock, stock——”
“And lies,” snapped the Deacon.
Mr. Flippance turned his large red face benevolently towards the moleskins.