“No.”
“Do you play cribbage?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not much fun playing anything without having something on the game. Haven’t you got a ticker?”
“Yes, but the water’s got into it. It’s stopped.”
“Then you haven’t got a tosser?”
“No.”
“Damn well on your uppers?”
“Yes.”
“My God, My Father, while I stray. You’d better go and turn in, then, if you want this early start. I can’t play beggar-my-neighbour with you, like a damned kid. Next time you look in, you’d better bring some ooftish to cover your cards with: your mess-bills, too, if you don’t mind.”