"Oh, no—ba-ah!—nothing!" said Levi.
"Nor I," added Goldshed.
"It'sh delicate—it izh delicate—but very promishing," said Mr. Goldshed, who was moistening a cigar in his great lips. "Very—and no-thing crooked about it."
"No-thing crooked—no!" repeated Mr. Levi, shaking his glossy curls slowly. "But very delicate."
"Then, gentlemen, it's understood—I'm at liberty to assume—that Mr. Dingwell finds one or other of you here whenever he calls after dark, and you'll arrange at once about the little payments."
To which the firm having promptly assented, Mr. Larkin took his leave, and, being a client of consideration, was accompanied to the shabby doorstep by Mr. Levi, who, standing at the hall-door, with his hands in his pockets, nodded slily to him across the flagged court-yard, into the cab window, in a way which Mr. Jos. Larkin of the Lodge thought by many degrees too familiar.
"Well—there's a cove!" said Mr. Levi, laughing lazily, and showing his long rows of ivory fangs, as he pointed over his shoulder, with the point of his thumb, towards the street.
"Rum un!" said Mr. Goldshed, laughing likewise, as he held his lighted cigar between his fingers.
And they laughed together tranquilly for a little, till, with a sudden access of gravity, Mr. Goldshed observed, with a little wag of his head—
"He's da-a-am clever!"